


The Best (and Only) Kept Secret in Neptune

by lit_chick08



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M, Love/Hate, Missing Scene, Pre-Canon, Season/Series 01, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-10
Updated: 2012-03-10
Packaged: 2017-11-01 17:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lit_chick08/pseuds/lit_chick08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even when they hated each other, Logan and Veronica just couldn't stay away from each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Alice Cooper was pounding out of the humungous speakers that someone had in the trunk of their car, the bass pounding so hard that it seemed to make the sand beneath Veronica Mars’s feet vibrate. If they weren’t careful, the Sheriff was going to come to break up the End of School Celebration, and, if the Sheriff showed up, then his daughter was going to feel his wrath. After all, he had made her promise that she was not going to end up at one of the parties, that she was going to stay at Lilly’s and do nothing wilder than watch “Cruel Intentions” for the thousandth time just to catch Ryan Phillippe naked.

Veronica had known even as she made the promise that she would break it. There was no way in hell that Lilly Kane, the unequivocal queen of the Neptune High social scene, was going to stay in her mansion on the night when a thousand different parties were happening. It was scandalous to even think that she wouldn’t show up. And if Lilly Kane was showing up, then her sidekick Veronica Mars would show up.

The party at Dog Beach was the latest and probably the last that they were going to hit. Duncan and Logan had been there all night, preferring not to party hop as they did, and everyone knew that Dog Beach was going to be the place to go for the hardest liquor. Lilly hadn’t drank all night, actually sticking to her promise of being a designated driver, but the moment they had arrived on the scene and Dick Casablancas had shoved a bottle of Grey Goose into her hands, Lilly had started downing it with the vigor of Tommy Lee. Veronica had easily picked her pocket of the keys to her father’s Range Rover, and she knew that Duncan or she, though they didn’t even have a permit, were probably going to have to drive her home.

Veronica was trying to relax, but she couldn’t quite do it. Every time she began to, she ended up searching the horizon for flashing lights that would signal her father’s arrival and her imminent death. She was doing this as she half-listened to something that Shelley Pomeroy was telling her, already formulating excuses to attempt to feed her father, when she heard the distinctive sound of her best friend chewing someone out.

“What do you mean, I’ve had enough?!” Lilly bellowed, swinging her nearly empty bottle of Grey Goose wide, nearly catching Dick in the face. 

Logan, much more sober than she, ordered, “Keep your voice down.”

“Why? Am I embarrassing you? Gee, I wouldn’t want to embarrass _Logan Echolls_ of the _Hollywood_ Echolls!”

“Shut up! You’re drunk!”

Her laughter was anything but mirthful, and Veronica felt unease coil in her stomach as she saw Lilly adopt her fighting stance, the same one she used when she was about to battle with Celeste. With her feet planted wide, her shoulders drawn back, Veronica knew that the most watched couple at Neptune High was about to throw down. Duncan, who had been throwing a football around with Casey and John, immediately started towards the bonfire which was casting the feuding couple in its glow.

“Says the future resident of the Betty Ford Center! Tell me, Logan: how _was_ your mother’s last stay there?”

A low murmur went through the crowd, and Veronica gasped in shock at the cruel words. There were certain things in Neptune that were no secret-Big Dick Casablancas’s affairs, the SEC investigation of John Enbom’s father, and, yes, Lynn Echolls’s alcoholism-but they were never spoken of in public. Like all good gossip, it was meant for whispers and private conversation, not public consumption.

Logan’s eyes glazed over in fury, and Veronica could see the muscles in his face jumping as he clenched his jaw. After a moment, he spat, “I don’t know, Lil. But, hey, maybe you can answer me a question. Do you charge full price for your talents when you’re drunk or just hand them out for free?” As Lilly’s face flushed red with anger, he added, “Or maybe I should ask your pool boy.”

Duncan was rushing to grab Lilly even as her arm swung, her hand connecting solidly enough with Logan’s face to send him stumbling backwards, just barely keeping his balance. As Duncan wrapped his arms around his big sister, who was screaming like a banshee and fighting as if her life depended on it, Veronica went to Logan to see if he was alright.

“Let me go!” Lilly screamed, her voice raspy from her shouts.

Logan shook off Veronica’s comforting hand, spitting, “You’re pathetic. We’re over!”

“Fucking fabulous! Maybe now I can actually sleep with someone who knows what they’re doing!”

He didn’t say anything, just grabbing a bottle of beer from a cooler and marching down the beach, so livid that no one dared approach him for fear of what he would do to them. Veronica wished that she could go and comfort him, but she knew better than anyone what it felt like to be dressed down by Lilly. Lilly had this unmistakable way of tearing you down to build you back up in the image that she wanted; she had done it to tomboy Veronica, shaping her into her innocent doppelganger, a Pep Squad girl rather than a soccer star. 

But just as quickly as Lilly could build you up, she’d strip you back down until you remembered that you were not your own person; you were exactly who Lilly told you to be, and you _never_ questioned that. Logan had forgotten the rules and Lilly reminded him.

The moment that Logan began to march away, Lilly started to sway on her feet before closing her eyes, 120 pounds of dead weight now in Duncan’s arms. Veronica moved towards her best friend and boyfriend, taking hold of her feet as she and Duncan slowly hauled her up to the Kane Range Rover. When they finally reached the car and Veronica unlocked it, Duncan carefully laid his unconscious sister across the backseat before gently closing the doors.

“What a mess,” he sighed, leaning back against the doors, the perfect picture of martyrdom. Everyone had their cross to bear, and Duncan Kane’s is, was and always would be his older sister. As the only son and practically infallible in every way, the burden had fallen on his shoulders, and he tried to handle it the best he could.

Veronica studied him in that moment, trying to evaluate the situation in that analytical way that her father often teased her about. There she was, standing on a beach that she shouldn’t be at, her best friend passed out in the backseat of a car after purposely hurting her boyfriend who adored her, her own boyfriend seemingly weak in his inability to handle a situation before it turned bad, and Veronica couldn’t help but wonder, _Why is this my life?_

She and Lilly had been best friends since she was 6 and Lilly was 7; they had belonged to the same Brownie troop and had become inseparable. Duncan had been their tagalong, too shy to make his own friends without his sister pimping him out; his status as a Kane was the only thing that really made guys like Dick hang out with him. Veronica had never taken Duncan very seriously until Lilly had begun to push him so hard upon her. 

She had been trying very hard to be the perfect girlfriend, to summon up real love for Duncan, who treated her so well, but it was hard, especially on nights like these when he hadn’t even tried to stop his sister from lashing out at his best friend.

“She needs to get home,” Veronica said. “Do you think you can get her there without my dad picking you up?”

Duncan sighed, obviously nervous, before nodding. “Someone should check on Logan.”

“I can do it,” she volunteered, much preferring an angry Logan over a drunk and eventually puking Lilly.

“How are you going to get back to the house?”

“Didn’t you guys drive?”

“Well, yeah, but Logan took that yellow Xterra his dad never drives. It’s not exactly a stealth car.”

“As long as he’s not too far gone, we’ll be okay. Just get Lil home.”

Duncan nodded, leaning forward to brush a light kiss across her lips. “You’re a good friend.”

“You’re a good brother,” she countered, folding her arms across her chest as a cool breeze blew off the Pacific Ocean.

“I’ll see you later.”

Veronica waited until she saw the taillights disappear before she started down the beach in the direction that Logan had headed. She prayed that he wasn’t going to make this difficult for her; Logan had an uncanny ability for being a jackass to anyone who tried to help him. And Veronica knew that the sting of Lilly’s words had hurt him more than he’d ever admit, even to her.

Logan had been her friend before he had ever been Lilly’s boyfriend. When he had moved to Neptune in the sixth grade, he had been in her first period math class, and their teacher had asked Veronica to help him get caught up. She had known that he was Aaron Echolls’s son, and she couldn’t help but be a little star struck when she had gone over to his house to help him with his homework; she had never met a movie star before, and there were Aaron and Lynn Echolls sitting in the living room. Logan had all but rolled his eyes at her stammers, telling her later that they were just parents like anybody else’s, and Veronica had learned firsthand that fame and fortune meant very little to Logan contrary to everything he said.

He was the new god of the 09ers, the action star’s son with the quick wit and endless confidence, and everyone had been surprised when he had become friends with Duncan Kane, who was so shy and quiet that he rarely even spoke in classes. They were a lot like Lilly and Veronica, Logan the yang to Duncan’s yin; they balanced each other out. Veronica, who had introduced the two boys, was now a constant fixture at the 09er lunch table, suddenly one of the most popular girls in 6th grade, not because Lilly was her older best friend, but because Logan thought she was cool.

She had started to spend less time playing sycophant to Lilly and more time with the boys, often spending hours just kicking around a soccer ball and talking. Lilly, of course, had gotten irritated, especially the following year when the big 8th grade dance rolled around and Logan had turned down her invitation to go in favor of going to Veronica’s first game in the summer league at the park. By the end of 7th grade, everyone thought that Logan Echolls and Veronica Mars were going to end up a couple.

And then the summer had come, and Lilly had pulled every trick out of her arsenal to make sure that didn’t happen. Suddenly, Duncan was calling her and wanting to spend more one-on-one time with her, and Logan wasn’t calling at all. When she had finally become confused as to why Logan had started to avoid her, she had gone over to his house only to have him be cold to her. As she tried to coax his reasons out of him, Lilly had appeared behind him in her tiny bikini of the moment, her ample curves making Veronica appear little more than a boy beside her.

Veronica had been crushed, and she had sworn that she would never forgive her best friend. Of course she had; after all, it wasn’t in Veronica’s sweet nature to hold a grudge, especially against someone she cared about. No, she suffered in silence, slowly getting used to the sight of Lilly draped around Logan’s frame, and Veronica stated to accept Duncan’s date invitations. Soon, they were the Fab Four, always together, and all of them began to happily live with their precarious happiness.

The sand was cool against the soles of her feet, and the music was fading as she walked further and further from the party. It was dark in the shadows of the seaside cliffs, the rocks jutting out into the water and towering above her head, and Veronica shivered again, this time rubbing her hands over her exposed arms, wishing she had brought a sweater.

“Come to counsel me?” Logan’s voice drawled from the darkness, making Veronica jump. 

Squinting, she followed the sound of his voice to find him leaning against the rock cliff behind him, a bottle of beer clutching in his right hand, a beach blanket beneath him that looked like the one that Carrie Bishop had been bitching about losing earlier. Of course, Carrie had been so drunk that chances are she had forgotten where she even put it, which made it their gain.

Taking a seat beside him, Veronica just shook her head, reaching over to take the bottle. After taking a sip, she handed it back to him, struggling not to make a face as the fowl tasting liquid touched her tongue.

“I’m fine,” he volunteered, his eyes focused on the crashing surf before them. 

“Okay.”

“What, you’re not going to accuse me of lying, tell me that I need to be honest with my feelings?”

“Nope.”

“That’d be a change. Usually when you’re trying to clean up her messes, that’s the first thing you do.”

Veronica winced a bit as he hit a particularly sore spot. She knew that she had a reputation as being Lilly’s sidekick, the one that smoothed over bad situations, that made excuses for her bad behavior at the expense of people liking her. And Logan wasn’t wrong; whenever Lilly and he brawled, it was usually Veronica that had to make the apologies that Lilly would never dare lower herself to utter.

“I just wanted to make sure you don’t get wasted and try to bodysurf without a board again.”

Logan’s lips quirked upwards as he remembered when he had attempted to do so during spring break. “This is only my second drink all night. I need to be sober if I’m gonna get the Xterra back to my dad unscratched.”

“Good plan.”

They sat in companionable silence for a moment before Logan turned his head to look at her. Softly, he mused, “Why am I with her?”

“What?”

“Why do I even _want_ to be with her? She’s such a bitch. Not just to me but to everyone, even you. She cheats on me with anything that moves, and everyone knows it. Why the fuck am I wasting my time with her?”

Veronica wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that Lilly loved him and would never philander, but she didn’t want to insult him further by lying. Instead, she lamely managed, “You love her.”

“No, I don’t. I _try_ to love her, but I can’t even do that cuz she pulls shit like this.” Lifting the beer bottle, he drawled, “To Lilly Kane, the girl that loves nothing more than to screw with me and everyone else.”

“Logan,” she began, unsure of what she was going to say but knowing she had to say _something_. She had never heard him this bitter, this harsh of Lilly; if she didn’t know better, she would’ve thought he was actually serious about staying away from her.

“She screwed us both over, you know,” he said, his voice amazingly blasé and conversational. “She knew everything about both of us and exploited it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I liked you. She knew that I liked you because I asked her to put in a good word for me, and you know what she did instead? She set you up with Duncan, and then she told me that you had been crushing on him all along. I was so heartbroken that I decided I’d get back at you with her, and now, here we are, 2 years later, and I’m still with her.”

Unable to focus on any of his other words, she simply asked, “You liked me?”

Setting down his bottle, Logan turned completely to face her, his face completely serious. “You really didn’t know?”

She shook her head, her waist length hair whipping around her face as the wind picked up. “I thought…I thought that when you got with Lilly, you were only being my friend to get with her.”

“Nah, I…I just wanted you.”

As Logan tentatively reached his hand out towards her cheek, she just sighed, “Oh.”

He leaned forward, and Veronica met him halfway, their lips passionately meeting in the middle. It was the kiss of two people that simultaneously should’ve been together and should _never_ have been together, the sort of kiss that screamed out its rightness and wrongness, and Veronica could hardly believe that she was doing this. Until two minutes ago, she had never thought she’d ever kiss Logan; he was Lilly’s.

Except right now, at this very moment, he was hers.

As they slowly began to learn the other’s mouth, Veronica moved into his embrace, Logan wrapping one arm tightly around her middle, his right hand against the side of her face, fingers playing in the silken locks that he loved so much. Veronica entwined her arms around his neck, offering more of herself to him, and, as Logan playfully traced the seam of her lips, Veronica opened her mouth, her tongue battling his for dominance.

Logan pulled back a bit, resting his forehead against hers, his breath coming in pants. Veronica immediately felt dread settle in her stomach, and she blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

Confused, Logan asked, “Why?”

“Well, because…because we shouldn’t be doing this. I mean, Duncan’s your best friend, and Lilly’s mine. We probably shouldn’t be making out on the beach.”

“Probably not,” he acknowledged before brushing his lips against the soft skin of her neck, prompting her to sharply inhale as pleasure shot through her. “But we should’ve been doing this years ago.”

Even as she craned her neck so that he could more thoroughly kiss it, she wavered, “I don’t know.”

“I do, and we should definitely be doing this.”

There was something in the definiteness of his words, in the way that he never even paused to consider that maybe she was right and they should stop that tugged at Veronica. She had always hated passivity; no matter how obedient she was of Lilly, she had never just stood idly by. Taking action was the one thing that Veronica did that Lilly could never change about her, and she had always hated the way that Duncan always seemed to wait for instructions before proceeding. 

Logan needed no instructions. In fact, if you gave any to him, he would blatantly disregard them.

He lowered her gently back onto the blanket, his body easily dwarfing hers as he stretched out against her, his weight braced on his hands. As his tongue traced the delicacy of her collarbone, Veronica’s hands ventured to the front of his shirt, her fingers clumsily unbuttoning it. With every button, a new patch of smooth skin was revealed, and she felt heat streak through her as she stroked the planes of his chest. He purred his approval against her skin, going to his knees, his hands stopping at the bottom of the thin, sleeveless shirt she wore.

“Okay?”

Veronica nodded, lifting so that he could slide the shirt from her body. It wasn’t until it was beside them on the blanket that she realized she had now gone further with him than she had even considered going with Duncan. With Duncan, anything sexual filled her with anxiety that she had always attributed to being 15 and sexually inexperienced; but with Logan, she didn’t feel anything but desire. 

His smile was bright as he teased, “How did I know your bra would be pink with a bow?”

She blushed a bit, smacking him on the chest. “Don’t make fun.”

“I think it’s adorable,” he assured her, kissing her soundly for a few moments. “ _You’re_ adorable.”

“Yeah, me and the Care Bears.”

Pulling back, he gazed so intently into her eyes that Veronica felt more exposed than she did sitting there in her bra. “Don’t doubt you’re beautiful, Veronica. You’re perfect.”

Tears inexplicably blurred her vision, and she turned away, afraid he would think that he had upset her. Instead, he began to pepper kisses down her back, making sure to press his lips against every vertebrae as he sighed, “All of Neptune should be jealous of you, Veronica Mars, because they’re all sheep, but you? You’re one of a kind.”

She spun suddenly, surprising him as she threw a leg over his lap, straddling him. As his shock wore off, Veronica kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his eyelids. When she reached his mouth, she murmured, “You had better not be drunk or I’ll kill you.”

He chuckled, running his fingers lightly up and down her back. “I believe it.”

Their kisses were deep as their hands explored, trying to find sensitive spots, whether their touch should be soft or hard, and Veronica shifted, attempting to get closer. As she sat, she felt something hard pressed against her heat, and both of them moaned at the sensation.

Carefully, tentatively, Veronica’s hands drifted downward, smoothly sliding beneath the waistband of Logan’s board shorts, finding him throbbing and erect, his skin astounding warm. His breath exploded against her bare shoulder, and he hissed her name through his teeth. Veronica couldn’t help but softly moan at how desperate he sounded, how needy a single touch had made him. It made her feel incredibly powerful to literally be holding Logan in the palm of her hand and having him desire her so badly.

She had never touched a guy like this before, and her movements were tentative and a bit rough as she tried to stroke him. After a moment, Logan gently pushed her hand away and embarrassment cut through her.

“I’m sorry. I did it wrong-“

“No, no,” he quickly assured her. “You just need more room to maneuver.” 

When he began to tug his shorts off, Veronica’s eyes bulged. She had never seen a guy naked before, and, even if she had been touching this part of him only a moment ago, actually seeing Logan sitting there with his dick pointing skywards was a completely different thing. It was intimidating, confusing, and exciting all wrapped up together, and with every passing second, the feeling changed.

He gently led her hand back to him, and Veronica let him guide her movements for a few moments, showing her how he liked to be touched, what rhythm and pressure was best, and soon his breathing had quickened as he lifted his hips to her rhythm, trying to get as much contact as possible. 

Instinctively Veronica knew to quicken her strokes, and soon Logan let out a loud groan as he came, exploding in her hand, his pleasure outweighing any that he had previously experienced. It was as if _he_ was the virgin, and it was a feeling that he liked. _This_ was as it should’ve been all along; he was certain of it.

Veronica was certain her cheeks were flaming as she used the corner of the blanket to wipe his cum off of her hand and his stomach, but she refused to feel bad, not when Logan was staring up at her as if she had hung the moon.

Their kiss was long and sweet, and Logan sat up, unashamed of his nudity as he requested, “Can I touch you?”

Though nervousness coursed through her, Veronica nodded. She had no idea what was about to happen, but she didn’t care. If kissing Logan could make her turn inside out, then she couldn’t wait to see what actually being touched by him did.

With practiced hands, he unhooked her bra, removing the article with ease. His hands were almost reverent as he took her breasts in his hands, his thumbs delicately brushing against her hardened nipples. Her moan was caught by his mouth, but she arched her back, pushing herself into his hands, hungry for the pleasure that one single touch had evoked. 

As his lips closed over her nipple, Veronica allowed him to lay her back down, her fingers sliding into his sandy hair, holding him to her chest as his tongue did sinfully delicious things to her breasts. She was convinced that there was nothing that could feel better than this until his hand pressed against her through her cutoffs.

“God,” she blurted out, unable to stop herself.

Smug smile on his face, he quipped, “Definitely one of the better things I’ve been called.”

A quick retort died on her lips as he undid the button and zipper and eased his hand inside of her underwear, his middle finger brushing over her clit. Her cry was loud in the darkness, her hips pitching up to gain more contact and Logan inwardly chuckled at the way the perfectly composed Veronica Mars was acting. There was something undeniably fulfilling about his ability to make her unravel, to have her clinging to him as she breathlessly pleaded for him to not stop.

Carefully, he eased one finger inside of her depths, his thumb stroking her clit. When she only moaned, he added another finger, wetness easily coating them. She was scorching to the touch, hips restlessly twitching, her nails digging into his shoulders.

“Please, Logan, please,” she panted, unsure what she was begging for but needing the tension coiled inside of her to be released before she went insane.

He didn’t disappoint. Kissing her with more passion than he had ever felt for anyone else, he firmly massaged her clit, the fingers inside of her speeding up, and Veronica exploded. 

Bliss tore through her as she experienced her first orgasm, sobbing her pleasure into his mouth. There could not have been a more perfect feeling than this, and the fact that it was with Logan only made it that much sweeter.

As she came down and Logan eased his hand out of her shorts, they stared at each other for a long beat. Logan’s eyes had always given him away; there was no way that he could hide anything when someone really looked at him, and right now, Veronica was glad for that. Because, right now, she had never seen anyone look at her with so much love before, and she was sure that the emotion was reflected back in her own eyes.

“Logan! Yo, Logan, you out here?!” Dick shouted, his voice scarily close.

No words spoken, Veronica and Logan began to draw their clothes back, Veronica furiously trying to flatten her hair so that it didn’t look like Logan had spent the better part of an hour running his fingers through it, Logan wiping at the telltale signs of lip gloss she had left on his cheeks. Quickly evaluating the other for any obvious signs, Logan brushed one last kiss against her mouth before shouting, “We’re over here, Dick!”

The peroxide blond stepped into view, and he drunkenly stumbled over to them, plopping down between them. “Dude, party’s over. Deputy Sheep gave us fifteen minutes to haul ass. Can you take me home?”

“Deputy Sheep?” Logan echoed.

“Lamb,” Veronica translated. “If he’s here, that means my dad might come next. We gotta go.”

Logan nodded, forcing Dick to wrap an around his shoulders as the trio made their way to the Xterra, Dick gracelessly falling across the backseat as Veronica climbed into the passenger’s seat. As Logan illegally guided the SUV through the streets towards Dick’s house, he glanced at Veronica out of the corner of his eye. She was staring out the window at the passing scenery, and feared clutched him. Maybe she thought that everything had been a mistake and didn’t want to even look at him. Maybe she really did love Duncan and didn’t want him at all. Maybe…

Dick was only half done stumbling up to his house when Logan asked, “Do you regret it?”

Veronica’s head snapped around as if he had just said something offensive. “Why, do you?”

“No.”

Returning her gaze to the darkness surrounding them, she assured him, “Me either.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I have to go to Lilly’s; I told Dad I was spending the night.”

“Oh.”

Only five minutes from the Kane mansion, Veronica said, “No matter what, we _did_ cheat. Even if we don’t regret it, we still shouldn’t have done it.”

“Are you going to tell Duncan?”

“I have to breakup with him. I mean, if we’re going to…do that again, I can’t still be with him.”

“And Lilly?”

Veronica looked at him in incredulity. “Am I going to tell Lilly Kane that I got to second base with her boyfriend? Why don’t I just take a baseball bat to a PCHer’s bike?”

“Well-“

“You guys broke up tonight. So really, you didn’t cheat. Once I break up with Duncan, we’ll just have to wait for a little bit and then we can be together.” Pausing, realizing something, she added, “If you want to be together as a couple.”

Pulling up in front of the mansion, Logan replied, “I do, but I think we should wait. Maybe you should even wait a couple of days before you break up with Duncan. It might look suspicious if you break up with him the day after you spend time alone with me.”

Veronica nodded, seeing the logic. “Well, I should go in.”

Smiling, he divulged, “I wish I could kiss you goodbye.”

She beamed. “You can kiss me hello next time you see me.”

Logan watched as she flounced down the walkway, Duncan opening the front door so that she didn’t have to ring the bell and risk waking Jake and Celeste. It wasn’t until Duncan raised his hand in a wave, clearly thanking him for bringing his girlfriend home, that guilt actually hit Logan as he realized he had betrayed his best friend.

* * *

Veronica woke up to someone poking her. Flopping over onto her side, she saw Lilly sitting there, an ice pack clutched to her head, as she groaned, “What did I do last night?”

“Insulted Logan, mentioned his mom’s alcoholism, broke up with him, and then passed out,” she replied.

“Oh god!” Flopping back onto the bed that Veronica was sleeping in, she rested her head against her best friend’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I did that. I’ll hafta call him and apologize.”

“Apologize?” Veronica parroted, eyebrows almost arching off of her forehead.

“I can’t keep doing this if I want to keep him around. Breaking up will not be good for me at all.” Turning her big blue eyes on Veronica, she asked, “Would you help me out, best friend of mine? You always know the right thing to say, and I really don’t want to lose him.”

Shame flooded her so suddenly and acutely that Veronica wanted to cry. How could she tell Lilly that she couldn’t help her win Logan back because she wanted him for herself? How could she ruin their friendship over a guy, even if it _was_ the guy that Lilly had taken first?

Veronica barely made it to the bathroom before she began to cry at the unfairness of it all. How could she have fallen in love with her best friend’s boyfriend, with her boyfriend’s best friend? Where was the fairness in that?

Of course, if life was fair, it wouldn’t be Neptune and she wouldn’t be Veronica Mars.

No, this was going to have to stay their dirty little secret. No one could ever find out what had happened last night and no one ever would.

* * *

Logan had known the moment he had seen her outside of his house that she was coming to tell him that they couldn't do what they wanted. He knew Veronica better than just about anyone, and he knew that she cherished her friends too much to ever let a relationship get in the way.

And it wasn't like he could blame her. He wasn't willing to lose Duncan as a friend either. So when she opened her mouth to tell him everything he didn't want to hear, he had just held up his hand and said, "I know."

Tears had shimmered in her soft blue eyes as she whispered, "I'm sorry, Logan."

"Me, too." Trying so very hard to be a bigger person than the one he actually was, he offered his hand as if they were completing a business deal. "Friends?"

The brush of her skin against his felt like an electric current as she agreed, "Friends."

Neither of them knew that in a little more than 3 months, Lilly Kane would be dead, and the friendship that they had both cherished would be nothing more than a memory.


	2. Chapter 2

As the flashing lights of the ambulance and police cars slowly disappeared in the distance, Veronica shivered, the cool December air causing goosebumps to rise along her skin. Keith wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a protective squeeze while watching the previously merry guests all flee before Lamb could take their statements. It wasn’t like the case was going to be hard to make; everyone had seen the carver stab Aaron, and she had been taken into custody. Of course, it _was_ going to be one of the most bizarre celebrity assaults in history; after all, how many action heroes and former sexiest men alive had been skewered by a pumpkin carver that they had had fired to hide a marital indiscretion?

“What do you say we head home, make some popcorn, and mock _It’s a Wonderful Life_?” Keith suggested.

Veronica smiled. “As much as I love making fun of George Bailey, I think I might stick around and see how Logan’s holding up.”

“Logan? Are you two friends again?”

“If by friends, you mean people who generally avoid each other and have conversations that are full of scathing animosity, then yes, Logan and I are friends.” Seeing his confused look, she admitted, “I feel bad for him, and all of his friends left. He shouldn’t have to be alone after his dad was nearly killed.”

Keith nodded. “You’re a good person.”

“Yeah, well, it’s this annoying trait I picked up from my father.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she added, “Besides, I have my car to make a getaway if I end up drowning him in the pool.”

“Don’t stay out too late.”

Veronica nodded, waving as he climbed into his car and drove away. 

The police had taped off the house for now, labeling it a crime scene, so she knew that Logan couldn’t be inside. Besides, he had always hated the house, preferring to spend his time in the pool house where they had been playing poker earlier. It wasn’t as if Veronica didn’t understand why; she had learned the hard way why it was that Logan not only hated the house but hated his father.

She would never forget that night. It had been a few days after Lilly had been killed, before her father had declared Jake Kane to be the prime suspect, before the name Veronica Mars became synonymous with social leper. On that Saturday, Logan was still her friend.

Her mother had been drinking all night, and she and Keith had been involved in a nasty argument when Veronica ducked out of the house. Unsure where else to go, she went to see Logan. They had been fighting for the last week over Veronica telling Lilly about him kissing Yolanda, but Lilly’s death had ended the fight and begun their mourning. Veronica knew that Logan would let her sit and they would remember Lilly, romanticizing her behavior and conveniently forgetting the bad. 

She had been about to knock on the door when she heard Lynn screaming, “Stop it! You’re going to kill him!”

Veronica had been terrified, but she quickly moved around the house to the open French doors. With Lilly’s death, she was petrified at the idea of losing yet another friend. No matter what she was about to see, she knew that she couldn’t stand idly by as something was happening.

Bile stung her throat at the sight that was unfolding before her. Logan was on the ground on his hands and knees, obviously trying to rise but lacking the strength to as Aaron Echolls, Hollywood icon and Oscar winner, brought a thick, leather belt down upon his son’s bare back. Lynn was standing behind Aaron, a tumbler of Scotch in her hand, tears streaming down her face, but in no way trying to intervene. The belt was coming down with so much force that Veronica could hear it connecting with every blow, and, unable to stop herself, she cried out.

Aaron stopped, looking up at the blonde on the patio. As his breathing began to regulate, he brushed a piece of dark hair away from his forehead and said, “Hello, Veronica. How are you?”

Her mouth and brain were disconnected in that moment as she starred at Logan, his back a bright red, a few lines of blood dribbling down his skin, and then at his father. Finally, she managed, “I wanna talk to Logan.”

Aaron nodded, swallowing hard. “Well, he’s been misbehaving a lot today. Don’t stay too long, okay?”

“Yes, Mr. Echolls.”

“Oh, call me Aaron,” he said as if his son wasn’t slowly crawling towards her, humiliation written all over his features.

The moment Aaron disappeared out the door, Lynn on his heels, Veronica rushed over the threshold, carefully helping Logan to his feet. Despite his usual reluctance to let anyone help him, he was too weak to stand on his own. With some careful maneuvering, Veronica got him up to sit on the back of the couch, and only then did she see the truly mangled mess of his back.

“Oh, Logan,” she sighed.

“It’s nothing,” he tried to dismiss.

Softly, as if he were little and had only skinned his knee, she blew against his damaged flesh, hoping to take some of the sting away. As she laid a gentle hand against his shoulder, she began, “Logan-“

“Please don’t tell anyone,” he begged, sounding so fragile that it broke Veronica’s heart. “No one can know. Promise.”

“I promise,” she assured him. “C’mon, let me patch you up.”

No, Veronica Mars would not have been sad if the carver had succeeded tonight in killing Aaron Echolls. Even if she and Logan were no longer friends, even if she hated him most of the time, she would never wish what Aaron did to him on anyone. No matter how many horrible things she had seen in the past year, watching Aaron beat his son had topped the list. And she knew that, as conflicted as she was about Aaron’s…incident tonight, Logan’s feelings would be tenfold.

As she suspected, the lights in the pool house were on. Stepping inside, she saw that Logan was heavily chugging from a bottle of Captain Morgan, the liquor sliding down his throat as easily as water slid down hers. It wasn’t until she cleared her throat that he even realized she was there, and, when he did, he snickered.

“Come to kick the wounded?”

“What?”

“Oh, let’s not play dumb, _Ronnie_. I’ve been bagging on your lush mother for months, and you’re not gonna take this opportunity to get yours? I thought you were a quicker wit than that.”

“Logan-“

Stumbling over towards the card table, he continued, “I can imagine what everyone else is saying, but they won’t say it to my face. But you…you’re Veronica Mars, badass motherfucker. Gimme your best shot.”

“I’m not going to fight with you, Logan.”

“Why not?!” he screamed, throwing the box that held the poker chips, the box that Veronica had bought him for his sixteenth birthday. She had to jump out of the way to avoid head trauma, and she stared at Logan in shock that he would be so out of control.

“Fight with me! This is your chance! Just do it!”

Moving cautiously, she repeated, “I’m not going to fight with you.”

“C’mon, I’ll get you started!” Throwing his voice, he intoned, “Nice dad you got there, Echolls! I wish my dad was a fucking asshole that cheats on my mom with whores at parties, that humiliates my mom in front of the whole goddamn town, that…that _beats_ his kids with…with belts…like they’re _animals_ …!”

Veronica wrapped her arms around his shoulders as Logan slid to his knees, sobs wracking his body. Brushing her fingers through his hair, she shushed him, rocking back and forth as he had done to her after one of her mother’s first drinking binges, wishing that she could spare him this pain. Jackass or not, no one deserved this.

For ten minutes, Logan cried against her shoulder, his tears burning against her skin, fingers grasping tightly at the back of her red shirt, so grateful for someone to be there that he didn’t even care that it was Veronica, the girl he had devoted so much hatred towards. 

When Lilly had died, Logan needed someone to blame. Abel Koontz might’ve done it, but that wasn’t the type of scapegoat he wanted. No, Logan needed someone to assuage his guilt for not being with her, and Veronica was the easiest target. He had thought that they were friends, regardless of whether or not she was with Duncan or he was with Lilly; he had thought that her first loyalty lied with him just as his was with her. Instead, one drunken kiss with Yolanda Hamilton ruined his relationship with Lilly, the most notorious cheater in Neptune. He blamed Veronica with a ferocity that she did not deserve, but he also knew that if he stopped to evaluate why he was really angry, his guilt would increase exponentially.

If he had been Veronica, there was no way in hell that he would’ve stuck around to comfort him.

Thank god he wasn’t Veronica.

Finally pulling away, wiping embarrassedly at his face, he asked, “Why are you here? I mean, I know that it’s Christmas and all, but even charity has its limits.”

Getting to her feet, Veronica sighed, “I thought that you might need a friend.”

Beginning to gather the poker chips, he quipped, “I thought someone as smart as you knew the definition of friend.”

“God, Logan, can you be decent for 2.5 seconds or is that beyond you? I just thought you might not want to be alone tonight. As satisfying as drinking yourself into alcohol poisoning might be, it’s probably not what you need.”

Climbing to his feet, dumping the plastic disks onto the table, he retorted, “And you’re what I need? That’s a little pathetic.”

Stung, she snapped, “Fine! Drink yourself into a coma! It’s not like anyone would miss you!”

“Like you don’t miss Lilly?”

“Which step of the grieving process is climbing on top of Caitlin Ford before Lilly’s body was even cold?” she countered, taking a step closer to him, getting directly in his face, refusing to let him push her away. She knew Logan too well; he would say whatever he had to in order to make her leave so that she wouldn’t see how hurt he was.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Neither do you!”

“I _loved_ Lilly!”

“You think I didn’t? I would’ve done anything for Lilly; she was my best friend! I did anything to keep her happy! I joined Pep Squad, I hung out with Dick, who had the IQ of yogurt on a good day, I gave up any shot I had with you-“ Catching herself, not wanting to reveal the open sore that was her heartache, she just shrugged. “I guess I thought that for tonight we could just have a ceasefire, that we could be friends and tomorrow we could go back to hating each other with a fiery passion. I should’ve known better.”

As she turned to go, Logan queried, “Ceasefire?”

Moving to face him, she said, “Yeah, you know, like in World War Two. On Christmas, the Allies and the Germans called a ceasefire for the day. They stopped fighting, even sang carols together, and the next day they were right back to killing each other. Now, I think if a bunch of men with machine guns could manage to get along for 24 hours, I thought you and I could do it for 12.”

After a long moment, Logan declared, “I’m gonna build a fire, get something to eat. You want to stay?”

“Will you play nice?”

“As nice as I can be.”

“That’s not saying much,” Veronica muttered, tossing her bag onto the bed.

* * *

They sat in relative quiet for a long time, each eating the mountains of food that Logan had procured from the main house after charming Deputy Sacks to let him in, when Logan suddenly looked at her and said, “Do you remember when we were thirteen and Lilly decided we should all go trick or treating?”

Veronica immediately began to laugh at the memory. “Which part of it? When she made you and Duncan dress up as Shaggy and Fred or when the Great Dane that she forced Jake to rent for the night ended up chasing after that ambulance and she tripped over her boots and scraped up her leg?”

“And we then had to carry her ten blocks because she said it hurt too bad to walk,” he added, a smile spreading across his face. “Celeste was so pissed that she destroyed those $500 boots that she bought with the credit card she swiped from her.”

“I don’t think we ever got yelled at more than that night. Not even when you and Duncan set Celeste’s antique French couch on fire using that box of matches as a football tee.”

“That’s because the sun rises and sets on Duncan Kane, and Mama Celeste would never dare scream at her baby boy.” Taking a swallow from his bottle of Captain, he chuckled. “I used to be so jealous of him. He had the perfect life.”

“I was jealous of Lilly,” Veronica admitted, poking at her food. 

“What a sad pair are we, the hangers-on of the Kane clan.” Raising his bottle of alcohol, he toasted, “To Duncan, my best friend who ran like hell when my father’s fling attempted to gut him. And to Lilly, my girlfriend and your best friend, who cheated on me with every available body and had no shame in dicking you over. Salud.”

“Logan,” she ventured, tentatively reaching a hand out to take the bottle from him.

Handing it over without a fight, he sighed, “I _am_ sorry, you know.”

“For?”

“Hurting you.” Rolling onto his back, he admitted, “I know I’m an asshole; it’s kind of my trademark. But I shouldn’t have…I never should’ve started calling you Ronnie when I knew that that’s what your mom called you when she’s drunk. And I’m sorry that I did it and that Dick keeps doing it.”

Veronica just stared at him in that moment, so broken and contrite, and she wasn’t staring at Logan Echolls, psychotic jackass, anymore. No, she was seeing the Logan who she had considered to be her best friend, the one that had died the day that Lilly Kane’s skull had been crushed. 

He turned his head to look at her, his dark eyes unfathomable and inscrutable, and he whispered, “Do you hate me?”

Only half-lying, she answered, “No.”

“I hate me.” Slowly rising to a sitting position, he offered, “It’s okay if you hate me.”

There was something about his permission that struck her as incredibly sad. “I don’t hate you, Logan.”

“You hate yourself; that’s why you chopped off all your hair.”

His insight was unnerving enough to make her fold her body up as she had when she was younger as an instinctive way to try to ward off things she didn’t want to hurt her. In his tenure as Supreme Asshole of Neptune, she had forgotten that he wasn’t nearly as blind as he liked to pretend. 

“I like it better short.”

“You called me Rosie O’Donnell for months,” she pointed out, feeling the familiar anger of the past 18 months start to lick at her. “You and Dick put lesbian porn on my locker.”

Minutely moving closer to her, he ignored her words. “With your hair like that, you don’t look so much like her. You look like you.”

Now truly convinced that he was smashed, Veronica rolled her eyes. “Logan-“

Suddenly his hand was cupping her cheek and his lips were on hers. For a moment she sat there stunned until she felt his tongue slide against her lower lip. With all of her strength, she shoved him away.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

True confusion crossing his features, he dumbly offered, “We called a ceasefire.”

“Yeah, a ceasefire! I didn’t suddenly get amnesia! You’ve been a total bastard to me ever since Lilly died! Why would I kiss you? I don’t even _like_ you!”

That hated smirk on his face again, he quipped, “I don’t know what you know, but you don’t have to like someone to do this.”

Keeping her hand firmly on his chest so that he would maintain his distance, she stressed, “I do.”

It was almost as if he had a chameleon face, the way it easily slid from arrogant asshole to remembered friend. Even the tone of his voice changed as he inched closer, saying, “You used to like me though. Remember that night on the beach?”

_No. Say no, Veronica. Do not let the guy who has made your life a waking hell ever since Lilly’s death know how much you remember about that night, how you have spent many a night using the detachable showerhead for reasons that were not listed on the box because of those memories. No matter what, do not let Logan Echolls know that he can still cause your stomach to do an Olympic quality tumbling pass while Duncan was only ever able to make you feel slightly excited._

But did Veronica’s mouth listen to her mouth? Of course not. All she was able to manage was an, “Uh-huh” that was entirely too breathy to even be considered coherent.

“I think about that night a lot. Do you?”

What was it about Logan’s hand against her skin that always made her feel like she had just taken enough drugs to make Corny seem like Einstein? It was as if she lost all capacity to think the moment they touched. She had hoped that would’ve changed, but if anything, the lack of contact for such a long time had made her twice as susceptible to it.

 _Shake it off, Veronica. Focus._ She moved her head away from his hand as she lied, “It was a long time ago, another life. We’re not those people anymore.”

“Why can’t we be them again?”

“Because too much has happened to just erase it! This is the real world, Logan, and in the real world, when you spend a year calling someone a dirty whore, they don’t want to make out with you and pretend that everything’s okay!”

Anger flashed in his dark eyes. “Then why the hell are you still here, Veronica?”

Why was she still here? That was a good question, a question that she didn’t want to answer because it would make her evaluate herself a little too hard. Veronica was an accomplished liar, but she had no use for self-deception. When it seemed like everyone around her did nothing but lie, she wanted to, at least, be honest to herself. And she knew that if she really asked herself why she had wanted to stay at the Echolls Mansion tonight, she wouldn’t like the truth.

Firmer, he repeated, “Why are you still here, Veronica?”

Voice thick with frustration and an emotion that she couldn’t quite verbalize, she just replied, “I don’t know.”

He moved with purpose and skill, and, before Veronica was even aware that it was happening, she was tilted back, precariously balanced by Logan’s hand at the center of her back, his surprisingly soft lips against her own. Her center of gravity was gone, and, as she curled her fingers around his shirt, prepared to push him away and possibly give him a right cross for Christmas, she heard him sigh against her mouth, “God, I’ve missed you.”

All thoughts of causing him physical damage ceased as she realized that she had wanted him to say that. In that masochistic part of her soul, she still wondered what it would have been like to be with Logan for real, to have more than just a late night groping session with him on Carrie Bishop’s beach blanket. In that tiny piece of her heart that still belonged to the innocent girl she had been before Lilly’s murder, she wished to be someone special to Logan Echolls.

Though she had gone to Lilly under the guise of friendship, the real reason that she had told her best friend about Logan’s kiss with Yolanda had been jealousy, pure and simple. Because he had sworn that he had never cheated on Lilly with anyone except Veronica, that Veronica was not just a fling, she had been heartbroken to see him entwined with Yolanda on the couch. She had been horrorstruck to think that he had just used her, fed her a line, and she had bought it. The idea that she had betrayed Lilly simply because of Logan’s practiced Lothario tactics made her want to vomit, and she had wanted him to hurt so bad in that moment that she would’ve torn him limb from limb. Instead, she did the next best thing: she went to Lilly and Lilly had ended their relationship. After all, in the hypocritical world of Lilly Kane, cheating was only acceptable if she was the one doing it.

But tonight, to hear that he had missed her, she wondered if she had been wrong in her anger about Yolanda. Maybe, just maybe, Logan really did care about her as much as she had cared about him.

The carpet was rough against the small of her back, a striking contrast to the softness of his fingertips, skimming the skin of her stomach. His touch was a strange combination of innocent and erotic, and Veronica was torn between wanting his hand to venture upward or to pull away.

His lips moved to the hollow beneath her ear, feather light kisses that caused her to squirm, and he whispered, “Did you miss me, Veronica?”

She couldn’t deny the shame that filled her as she whispered back, “Yes.”

In the past year, Veronica had felt as if she had been tightrope walking. On the one hand, she detested what he had become, the casual way with which he treated girls and the asinine way he treated everyone else. However, on the other hand, she was also always ready to do battle with him, knowing that no one could possibly challenge her like he did. She was often disgusted by the fact that she couldn’t seem to walk away from him, that she thrived on interaction with him. 

And even though she knew that she was going to probably hate herself tomorrow, she couldn’t deny that she wanted this just as much as he did. 

In the light of day, it would be easy for her to claim seduction, that she was lured into this by his sweet talking, but she wanted this. She wanted to feel Logan against her and know that, even if it was only temporary, he was _hers_. With Duncan, she had never felt possessive; it wasn’t her way. That little detail was another thing she wasn’t going to dwell upon.

The firelight flickered, casting them in an orange glow while also shadowing them. She hadn’t realized until he pulled away that she was desperate for his kisses, for the taste of him, and she mewled in discontent when he was out of reach. 

His smile was pure self-satisfaction as he drawled, “Am I getting a rise out of you, Veronica?”

Acting bolder than she felt, she raised herself slightly, her hand brushing over the noticeable bulge in his jeans. When he thrust his hips to gain more contact, she retorted, “I think I got the rise out of _you_.”

He pulled his shirt off as if it were an enemy, flinging it across the pool house. As his hands began to unfasten his pants, Veronica took a deep breath, preparing herself for what was about to happen. She cautiously slid out of her shirt, moving far slower than Logan, who appeared to be desperate to rid himself of his clothes. By the time she was unbuttoning her pants, Logan had stripped down to his severely tented boxers, which were humorously enough covered in pictures of the Grinch. 

His hands were sure yet careful, as if he was afraid of spooking her. She was grateful for him doing this because she was afraid that he would see how bad her hands were shaking. Before Shelley Pomeroy’s party, she had never been afraid of sex; while the idea was somewhat intimidating, it was still something that she looked forward to. But since the party and the night she did not remember, the very mention of sex made her uncomfortable. She prayed with everything she had that what happened that night would not ruin this for her.

After stripping her of her pants, he sat back on his heels to look at her as he had not gotten the chance to do that night two years before. He had always thought that Veronica was beautiful, but, compared to the flashiness of the other 09er girls, she was usually written off as nothing more than a brain buried beneath a waterfall of blonde hair. During one of her bitch fests, Lilly had once called Veronica “pretty but unremarkable.” 

As usual, Lilly had no fucking idea what she was talking about.

Veronica gasped when he pressed his lips against the curve of her stomach rather than her neck or breasts. His breath was hot as it misted over her skin, his kisses moist and hungry, as if he was trying to devour her. He never lifted his mouth as his hands expertly unhooked her decidedly unsexy white, cotton bra. Rather than immediately pull it off, Logan slid the straps down her arms, leaving her shoulders bare but her breasts covered. When his tongue traced the delicacy of her collarbone, Veronica wanted to cry at his gentleness. _This_ was Logan Echolls.

Her hands were tentative at first, gently coasting along the length of his back while he seemed to explore every square inch of her neck, shoulders, and stomach. When his kisses began to get closer and closer to her breasts, his fingers teasingly stroking the top of her pale blue panties, any tentativeness went out the window. Her nails lightly scratched at his back, urging him on, and, when he finally removed her bra, sipping a hardened nipple into his mouth, one of her hands slid around his stomach and slid down his boxers.

His moan was long and rough, the sound vibrating against her breast, causing her to pitch her hips upward in pleasure. He pressed back, grinding his hardness into the warmth between her thighs, pleasantly noticing that they were damp with her arousal. Part of him wanted to do nothing more than tear away the scrap of fabric covering her mound and thrust into her, taking his pleasure and securing her as his. The other part, the part that recognized that this was not Lilly, that this was Veronica and she deserved much more, wanted to savor every moment and make her first time something memorable and beautiful.

“Logan,” she panted, wishing that she could tell him everything, wishing that there was nothing to tell and that _this_ was the first time.

“Veronica,” he gasped right back, moving his hips to simulate how he wanted to move inside her. God, he was ready to cum in his pants like he was thirteen again and things had barely begun. 

Any thoughts of discussion immediately flew out of her mind when, with every roll of his hips, his dick hit her clit, prompting her to moan. She was so close, so close, so close…

“Oh God!” she screamed as her orgasm tore through her, her nails digging half-crescents into his shoulders as she pushed her hips more aggressively into his, wanting more, not even knowing what more entailed.

Logan couldn’t wait anymore. His boxers were off and her underwear was at her knees before Veronica even became conscious of the fact that he had moved. And the moment she _was_ aware, everything came rushing back to her.

_Tiny lights in a row, like giant Christmas bulbs. Bad music blasting. The ordinary taste of her Rum and Coke._

He dug through the pockets of his long forgotten pants, finding his wallet and removing the foil packet that was always there. As he tore it open and slid it on, he looked down at Veronica, her skin still flush from orgasm, her eyes closed, and he knew that he couldn’t give this up again. He couldn’t give _her_ up again.

As he positioned himself over her, he whispered, “You’re so soft,” a light tease in the words, hoping to get a smile.

_Her head hurts, feels heavy. The bed’s soft. It isn’t her bed. Her stomach churns when she sits up. The pain is sharp between her legs. She hisses as she tries to remember._

“Veronica, look at me,” he gently requests, guiding her chin until he can look into the blue eyes which she has opened. There’s a tear glimmering into the corner of one, and he bends to kiss the very edge of it, catching the saltwater on his tongue. “Don’t cry, baby. I’m right here.”

_Her underwear are on the floor, and she knows. The tears start. The bathroom’s down the hall. She pukes once, twice. Every time she thinks she’s done, it starts again. Afraid, she reaches down to where it hurts and immediately cries out. She lifts up her new dress, ruined now, and sees dried blood on her thighs mixed with someone’s semen. She pukes again, misses the toilet._

As slow as he can, Logan begins to enter her, wanting to feel as close to her as possible. He was only in an inch when she began to scream, “Stop! Please stop! Stop!”

Logan immediately reversed, terrified. “Veronica, what is it? Did I hurt you?”

_They slashed her tires, so she has to walk. She carries her shoes, winces the entire 5 miles to the police station because of the burning at her core. Lamb tells her to see the Wizard. No one cares. She sits in the shower for hours, sometimes scrubbing, sometimes crying. After, she finds the biggest pair of scissors in the house. She’s numb as she shears her hair, killing the last of the innocent Veronica Mars. It’s a mess at the end, but it doesn’t matter. No one will ever hurt this girl. This Veronica can’t be hurt._

She hasn’t really cried since her rape, mostly because she’s unwilling to confront it. Knowing who did it and actually accepting it happened are two very different things, but until tonight, Veronica hadn’t realized the distinction.

Logan was confused. One minute she had been right there, enjoying what they were doing, an equal participant. Now…now she was a different person, someone he didn’t recognize. Veronica Mars didn’t cry, and she certainly didn’t breakdown bawling while completely naked on the floor of his pool house.

All arousal was forgotten as Logan drew back, removing the condom and pulling his boxers back on. Afraid he had done something wrong, terrified that he had caused her pain, he reached for her, intending comfort. To his shock, she skittered backwards out of his reach, curling her body up in a manner that Logan recognized; it was the same position that Logan assumed when Aaron would beat him.

“Veronica. Veronica. Veronica!”

She was unresponsive, just shook her head and rocked, tears pouring down her cheeks so fast that it seemed as if there was a dam inside of her that had broken free. Trying to think of something he could do for her, he ventured, “Veronica, I’m going to get you some Kleenex, okay? I’ll be right back.”

At the sound of his voice, she looked up and watched as he moved towards the bathroom in the back of the house. Feeling incredibly stupid and exposed in a way that had nothing to do with her nudity, she quickly drew on her clothes, forgoing the underwear she could not find. Carrying her boots in her arm, she hurried out of the house, vision blurred.

When Logan emerged from the bathroom to find the room missing, he quickly hurried towards the door only to see the taillights of her Le Baron disappearing into the darkness.

 

* * *

Logan did not see Veronica for two weeks, not until Christmas break was over. By the time he did, his father was home from the hospital and being hounded by everything from _The Enquirer_ to _20/20_ , his mother was so doped up on vodka and Valium that she could barely form sentences, and Logan himself was so lost that he had no idea whether he was coming or going.

He found Veronica at her locker with Wallace, indulgently smiling at something he said, before he bounced off, leaving her alone. As she closed her locker door, she spun and crashed directly into his chest. She was halfway through a sharp remark when she saw who it was, and then she froze.

“Veronica, can we-“

Knowing what he was going to ask, she cut in, “No.”

“Veronica-“

Keeping her voice low, her eyes flicking from side to side to make sure no one could hear, she hissed, “I don’t want to talk about what happened, Logan. I don’t even want to think about it. It was stupid to even think about doing it. The ceasefire is over, so stay out of my way!”

Logan was torn between anger and heartache as he watched her stomp away, pushing through the linked arms of Dick and Madison, who were evidently on-again this week. 

“What is her problem?” Madison cried, adjusting her top to its previously unwrinkled status.

“Guess tricks were bad over break,” Dick chortled, finding his own comment hilarious.

Jaw clenched, heart far more broken that he wanted to admit, Logan tried to play it off, gritting out, “Fuck her, man. Who gives a shit about Veronica Mars?”


	3. Chapter 3

For as much as Veronica absolutely adored her father, she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed alone time in their apartment. Despite the fact that most of the town detested her and rarely did anyone actually _speak_ to her, she still needed quiet time, especially after being falsely arrested for forging IDs, being locked into the trunk of her own car, and hearing everyone’s deep dark secrets when it came to Lilly. 

Secrets seemed to be the only constant in Neptune. Everyone had them, everyone kept them, and rarely did any one reveal them, but when they did, it was always explosive. Some days it seemed like the only reason that some were coming out was because of Lilly’s murder. After all, if it hadn’t been for her death, Veronica never would’ve gone to see Abel Koontz, who had dropped the biggest bomb of her life. Did Lilly know that Jake might also be Veronica’s father? Had she laughed when she found out, knowing the kisses and touches that her best friend and brother had exchanged? Had she reveled in the idea of the fall-out that it could cause, the humiliation that would fill Celeste, the pain that it would cause Keith Mars?

Lilly had always loved drama, loved causing it even more.

But Veronica didn’t want to think about Lilly tonight. In fact, tonight she wanted to pretend that the Kane family didn’t even exist. She had spent the better part of 2 years trying to figure out the siblings Kane, to figure out why it was that Duncan had so casually discarded her and continued to play hot and cold, to try to understand why it was that Lilly managed to be her best friend and worst enemy all at the same time. Veronica was sick of headaches and tears and constant analysis that never seemed to get her anywhere. No, tonight, all Veronica Mars wanted was to cuddle up on her couch with her faithful pitbull, eat massive amounts of Rocky Road ice cream and trying to find something to watch that was not a reality show.

She had just settled into an episode of _Alias_ , happily drooling over Michael Vartan’s abs, when the program cut out and went to the local Neptune newscaster. Ignoring him, she was half off of the couch, prepared to locate the tube of Pringles she had spotted in the cupboard when she heard, “In late breaking news, it has been confirmed that the abandoned car on the Coronado Bridge, _did_ , in fact, belong to Lynn Echolls, wife of Oscar winner Aaron Echolls. Sheriff Don Lamb has released a statement that a suicide note was found within the Dodge Viper, along with an empty bottle of Valium. No body has been recovered, but rescue workers believe that there is no way that Echolls could have survived the fall. Lynn Echolls was the star of several teen flicks in the 1980s-“

Lynn Echolls was dead. 

Logan’s mom was _dead_.

She had seen Lynn earlier today at school. There was something about Lynn that made it impossible to miss her. Maybe it was the fact that she always wore expensive, tailored clothing even to soccer games; it could’ve been the insane amount of collagen that she had pumped into her lips in the past few years in a desperate attempt to look like the starlet she had once been; perhaps it was even the way she always seemed to be unsteady on her feet and had a bad habit of tripping. No matter what it was, she was still the only adult woman in the 09er neighborhood that took the time to acknowledge that Veronica existed.

Just this morning, when she was headed towards the office with Logan at her side, she had seen Veronica at her locker digging for her history book and had stopped to ask Veronica how she was doing. Logan had pointedly ignored her, pretending that she didn’t exist, but Lynn talked to her as if Veronica had never stopped coming to their house, as if she had just come home from the club and found Veronica in the living room with Lilly, Duncan, and Logan, laughing and being blissfully ignorant to the troubles that were about to descend upon them.

It wasn’t until she felt Backup’s rough tongue against her cheek that she realized she was crying. She had never been close to Lynn Echolls, had found the way she let Aaron abuse their son disgraceful, but she had never wanted her to die. It seemed as if in Neptune that people always left the world abruptly with no fair warning.

They were flashing pictures of Lynn’s Viper on the bridge, a wedding picture of Aaron and Lynn that had run in _People_ magazine over 20 years ago, a cheap headshot of Trina, looking overly made up, and finally one of Logan that Veronica recognized from his dresser. 

It had been taken at the fundraiser his parents had sponsored for the Pediatric AIDS foundation, the one that he had insisted she, Duncan, and Lilly be allowed to attend. Jake and Celeste had sent a contribution but were unable to attend because they were skiing in Aspen with their children; Veronica had felt horribly uncomfortable all night in the gown she had borrowed from her best friend and had self-consciously sipped champagne with Logan, who had told her she was beautiful and brushed a kiss against her mouth before she left. It had been after that night on the beach, and she had wondered if she had made a mistake by never telling Lilly.

 _Logan._

He had been so close to his mother. With Aaron being the abusive asshole that he was and Trina being desperately in love with herself, Lynn had been the only one in that family that even bothered to care about him. He was going to need someone tonight, and she knew that there was no chance that an 09er would traverse to the Echolls mansion tonight. Even Duncan would avoid going. Veronica knew that Duncan was not good with emotion, especially grief, and he would only go to Logan when he was sure that he was healing so as not to have to deal with the mess.

If Veronica could appreciate irony tonight, she would have laughed at the way she forever seemed to be cleaning up the messes that the Kane siblings had no problem walking away from.

Of course, bathing in acid was a more appealing option than going to Logan right now. Ever since that disastrous night in the Echolls pool house when she had melted down and fled, she and Logan had tried to limit all interaction. It had been so humiliating for her on so many levels. She really _had_ wanted to make love with Logan that night; if there was anything she didn’t doubt about that night, it was that. Sure, her judgment wasn’t the greatest when it came to him, but she had known that, underneath everything, he cared about her. 

But if she had known that she’d flash back like that, if she had known that the bastard who had raped her at Shelley’s party would ruin what should’ve been a beautiful moment between her and Logan, making her seem like a psychotic tease, she never would’ve let it go that far.

As desperately as she wanted to find out who had violated her last year, she didn’t want anyone to know her secret shame.

Shoving her feet back into the boots that her father often teased her about, she knew that what _she_ felt didn’t much matter tonight. Logan’s mother had died today and that far outweighed any discomfort going might cause her. God knew that she had wished someone had extended her the same courtesy when her mother had left, and, while Logan had mocked her mother’s departure, Veronica was not Logan.

No, she was going to be a friend to him even if it killed her.

And, in Neptune, it just might.

* * *

Every media outlet on the West Coast was parked outside the gates of the Echolls mansion, cameras pointed at the house, excited reporters trying to squawk louder than their counterparts when Aaron Echolls stepped into the pool of brightness that was cast by the floodlights positioned atop the pillars at the end of the driveway. For a grieving husband he looked remarkably well, not even a hint of red to his eyes, his skin glowing with vitality, hair perfectly coiffed. When he began to speak, the words sounding practiced, Veronica couldn’t help but be sucked in for a moment. If there was one thing that the child abusing has-been was good at, it was putting on a show.

Knowing that there was no way she was going to be able to get the Le Baron into the driveway, she parked it on the side of the road, making her way through the throng of reporters, hoping that Aaron would let her through the iron gates. After being rudely elbowed by Mary Hart and a hand squeezing her butt-she was sure _that_ was Pat O’Brien-she managed to reach the front of the pack of leeches. The moment that Aaron saw her, he moved forward, shocking her when he pulled her into a tight hug that caused the flashbulbs to explode in a frenzy.

Voice choked up with emotion, sounding as if he was delivering one of those cheesy monologues from a straight-to-video movie he had done, he announced, “This is Veronica Mars, a good friend of my son Logan. I’m so glad that you could be here in our family’s time of need.”

Her hatred of paparazzi had gone into full bloom after Lilly’s murder, and that hadn’t changed at all. When they began to yell questions about her father and Abel Koontz, she asked Aaron, “Can I go up to the house?”

Clasping a strong hand on her shoulder, he nodded. “Of course. Logan’s in his room. He’s taking this…pretty hard.”

Grateful to be free of his grasp, Veronica hurried up the driveway that was longer than some streets in Neptune. Once upon a time the vastness of this place, the sheer gaudiness of it and the glamour of the people that lived here had fascinated her. Now, Veronica saw it for what it was: a house built with money that had never done anyone any good, a family that was contingent upon keeping their secrets and no one ever finding out that their heroes were alcoholics and abusers.

 _This_ was where Logan had grown-up and it wasn’t hard to see why he had ended up the way he did.

The house was eerily quiet, only a single light on in the living room, but Veronica could find her way upstairs even if she was blind. She had been here almost as much as she had been at the Kane mansion, and she had spent many hours in junior high kicking Logan’s ass at Play Station. With her eyes closed she knew that once she hit the top of the stairs that she’d turn left, and it was the second door on the right.

Her knock was light but seemed to echo in the cavernous silence. After several knocks, she touched the doorknob and found the room to be locked, undoubtedly to keep Aaron from dragging him out to publicize his grief. Trying to force her mind away from the lock pick that she had within her bag, she took a deep breath and called, “Logan, it’s Veronica. I want…I’m just gonna stay out here in case you need to talk. I’ll be right here.”

Keeping her back to the smooth wood of his door, she slid to the floor, her knees bent before her, eyes closed. She wasn’t a patient person, didn’t like waiting in tense situations; Veronica was a woman of action and inaction was painful.

Veronica heard the tumble of the lock only a moment before she spilled backwards at Logan’s feet, staring up at him from the expensive, plush carpeting that covered his floor. He seemed like a giant as he stood over her clad only in a pair of worn drawstring pants, his chest bare, eyes so bloodshot with tears that it made her want to cry.

As she hurried to her feet, he gruffly asked, “Why are you here?”

Suddenly feeling as if she was intruding, she fumbled for a moment, the way she had done when she was fourteen and Lilly had pinned her with that same gaze. Finally, she managed, “I thought you might need a friend.”

“Then I repeat: why are _you_ here?”

On any other day, Veronica would’ve replied with a biting comment of her own, but even she had a higher tolerance for bastardry when a parent died. “I didn’t think you should be alone.”

Turning his back to her, revealing the light dribbles of scar tissue left over from one of Aaron’s beatings, the ones he lied about and said were from a bike accident, he snapped, “Well, I don’t really feel like a case of blue balls tonight, but when I do, I’ll give you a call.”

Oh, that hurt. Even with her new thick skin she couldn’t help but flinch, grateful that he couldn’t see how the blow had landed and done its damage. She knew he was hurting right now, but she didn’t want to be mocked for Christmas, not when she still cried for being unable to follow through that night.

“Look, Logan, I know that you’re upset and I understand-“

“You _understand_?” he echoed, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “What do you understand, Veronica?! My mother is _dead_! How can you understand that?!”

“My mom-“

“Your mom took off! She didn’t die; she bailed! It’s not the same thing!”

God, he was batting a thousand tonight, hitting every open wound her heart had.

“Maybe not,” she acknowledged, her own voice getting thick, “but I know what it’s like to just have someone be gone without saying goodbye, without ever knowing why it happened or what you could’ve done to fix it. I know what it’s like to…to wonder if it was your fault, that you might’ve contributed to her leaving.” Slowly moving towards him, she softly added, “I know what it’s like to wish that you’d gone too.”

Turning towards her, his dark eyes glistening with tears, he hissed, “I don’t want to talk about this with you.”

“Then who are you going to talk about it with? Somehow I don’t think Dick is going to be the most empathetic person.”

“Why should it be you?” he countered. “I trusted you last time, I opened up, and you just took off and wouldn’t even talk to me afterward! Give me one reason why I should trust you again, Veronica!”

“You can trust me,” she insisted.

“Why? You made it perfectly clear you don’t trust me.” The pain in his eyes became more acute, anger flickering beneath the surface, mixed in with the pain of losing his mother and the rejection he had felt. “I actually thought you felt something for me; I thought that things would be different after that. But you…you played me even better than Lilly ever did. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I didn’t play you and I’m not like Lilly! You don’t understand-“

“No, I understand perfectly.” Flopping back onto his unmade bed, the mauve comforter so out of place in this room, he declared, “You think that you’re different from the rest of us, above us, that you understand everything better, but when push comes to shove, you go right back to being Lilly Kane’s shadow.” Taking a long swallow from the bottle of Jack Daniels on his nightstand, he gave her a dismissive wave. “I don’t have time for another mind fucker.”

The tears that had been simmering under the surface suddenly broke free, fat saltwater drops cascading down her face. She felt as if he had just stripped her bare, leaving her for the whole world to see, and even if she knew he was just doing it because _he_ was hurt, it didn’t make it better or easier.

“I’m not like that,” she swore, voice raspy with emotion. “You know I’m not like that. If I was, why would I be here?”

Tiredly, he lowered his head to the pillow, closing his eyes. “I don’t know why you’re here, but I know that you shouldn’t be. Unless you want to tell me why you bailed last time, we have nothing to talk about.”

 _Quid pro quo_ , Veronica thought humorlessly as she moved to sit beside him on the bed. _A confession for a confession, my feelings for his._

Making sure to keep a careful distance from him, afraid that if she was touching him she would never get the words out, unable to look at him, her whispered words went off like an explosion within the room.

“I was raped.”

It was the first time she had ever spoken it aloud, ever given what had happened a name. When she had tried to report it to Lamb, she had said “assault,” as if that would make the act any less heinous. Afterward, when Lamb had so cruelly ignored her, Veronica had been incapable of saying it. She had been so ashamed, felt so violated that she didn’t even want to acknowledge it. One part of her wanted to know who did it, but the other part of her wanted to deny it had even happened, that someone could have abused her like that and not felt anything wrong with it. 

She didn’t want to be damaged goods, and she knew that was how people looked at rape victims.

Logan’s eyes instantly snapped open, his body jerking to an upright position, convinced he had heard her wrong. There was no way he had heard what he thought he did. He didn’t want to have heard what he did.

“What did you say?”

She wished it was easier to say it the second time but it wasn’t. “I was raped.”

“When?”

Studiously avoiding his gaze, she supplied, “Shelley Pomeroy’s party last year. Someone…spiked my drink. I don’t really remember what happened, but when I woke up…I was in bed alone without my underwear and my dress strap was broken.”

Anger burned through his veins then, so sharp and burning that he would’ve killed the perpetrator with his bare hands. “Who?”

The tears were coming quicker now; tears always came easy when she thought about this. “I don’t know. I tried to tell Lamb, but…” 

She couldn’t finish her sentence, the agony of Lamb’s humiliation so much worse on top of the violence she had experienced. 

Tentatively, Logan reached out a hand, laying it on her shoulder, but she jerked away, too exposed to stand being touched right now. She was shaking harder than she ever had before, and she wished that she had just left and not started down this path. Everything she had read said that rape victims felt lighter after revealing their attacks, but Veronica did not feel relieved; she felt like she had been stripped naked and left in the middle of town for all to judge.

“I left because…because I got scared. I knew you weren’t going to hurt me, but I couldn’t…I kept thinking about…” Angrily wiping at her face, she bit out, “I wasn’t trying to mind fuck you. I didn’t want to hurt you at all. And when you came to me after, I just…panicked.”

Logan wasn’t often left speechless, but there was no other word for this. Only half an hour ago he had been mourning his mother, but right now he couldn’t think of her at all, not when Veronica Mars was crying on his bed, confessing her deepest secret to him because she had wanted to help him in his pain. He had never felt like a bigger jackass in his life, but, at the same time, he felt honored that she had confided in _him_ rather than just walk away.

“Veronica.” He moved towards her slowly, his hand on her shoulder blade feather light, and, in a voice that was barely a whisper, he assured her, “What happened wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could’ve done to stop it. Whoever did that to you…you were a victim and you didn’t deserve that.”

It was as if a dam had broken inside her as she flung herself into Logan’s shocked embrace, burying her face in his neck as she sobbed. She had wanted- _needed_ -to hear those words so badly in the past year to try to assuage her shame because she _had_ blamed herself. How many times had her father told her to never drink from a cup that she hadn’t poured herself, to never accept a glass of anything from someone she didn’t know? She had been terrified that maybe, because she had been so careless, she had deserved what had happened to her. To hear Logan tell her that it wasn’t was like being absolved of her sins.

Logan had been so drunk at Shelley’s party that he could barely stand, but he remembered Veronica with perfect clarity. She had never been able to handle her alcohol, and, when they had partied together, he had always kept an eye on her, monitoring her intake. It had always been second nature to protect Veronica Mars, and he had thought it would always be like that. But Lilly’s death had changed everything, and that night, when he had seen her at the party, he was irrationally angry at her for being there, for agreeing with her father that it wasn’t Abel Koontz who had killed Lilly, for looking indescribably beautiful in that virginal white dress.

He had been overtaken with jealousy when he had seen her kissing Dick on the couch, Dick’s hands freely wandering over the body that Logan remembered all too well from their night on the beach, and he had written her off then and there. When they had turned her into the salt lick near the pool, he had started to feel uneasy, his conscience tugging at him through the haze of alcohol. Someone had pushed him towards her, and, when he had bent to lick at the salt on her neck, she had stared up at him with those big blue eyes of hers and she had whispered his name, one of her hands reaching up to stroke the side of his face. It was the innocence of the gesture that had struck him, the way she had mistook him for her white knight, and he had felt sick to his stomach that this was what he had become.

And then Duncan had swept her off of the lounge and he hadn’t seen her again. The next time he saw her, she had butchered her long hair, Lilly’s hair, a child’s hair, and she was someone else entirely.

Her tears burned like fire against his neck, and a memory fought its way to the forefront of his brain. It had been his 14th birthday party and Lianne was supposed to pick her up from his house. Everyone had left, and Lynn had offered to take her home, but she insisted that her mom was just late, that she’d wait. She and Logan ended up watching an episode of _Saturday Night Live_ , Veronica unable to even crack a smile, and Logan had kept a protective arm around her shoulders. When Lianne had showed up, she was so drunk that she fell out of the car and passed out in the driveway. Lynn had called Keith at the station and Veronica had just sobbed in Logan’s arms, pressing her face into his collar, wanting him to save her. He had just stood there, no words coming, until Keith arrived, scooping her up, thanking Lynn, and wishing Logan a happy birthday. 

Logan Echolls had never been anyone’s hero, and whenever he had the opportunity, he had always fucked it up. 

He moved against his headboard, Veronica curled up in his lap, gently rocking her, soothing her. Seeing how this was tearing her apart, all he could think about was Duncan pulling her away from them that night, the perennial Boy Scout who had never wavered in his morals, who never would’ve even considered using Veronica as a salt lick, he declared into her hair, “It should’ve been me that night.”

Tears finally stopping, she confessed, “I wish it had been. I wanted…I wanted my first time to be this romantic, bed of roses thing with someone that I loved, that loved me. Whenever I pictured that person’s face, it was always you. I used to cry because it wasn’t.”

It was the worst sort of misinterpretation. He hadn’t wanted her to reveal another part of her heart, hadn’t wanted another secret. How was it that even when he tried to tell her one of his regrets that she still seemed to make him have a whole batch of new ones?

“No, Veronica,” he stammered, almost helplessly, that famous Echolls mouth failing him. “I meant that I should’ve saved you that night, that I should’ve protected you.”

Embarrassment burnt bright enough on her face that it lit up the room. Immediately she pulled away, feeling so mortified that she couldn’t even manage to draw breath. She was scrambling to get away, muttering, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. You were right. I should go. I don’t belong here.”

Logan sprung forward, cutting her wrist and pulling her back, unthinking that the movement might scare her. He certainly didn’t want to upset her, but he couldn’t let her leave like this, thinking that he didn’t want what she had said. 

Veronica’s heart skipped a beat as Logan tugged her back to him, sliding a gentle hand against her cheek, slipping in to tangle in her loose blonde locks. Resting his forehead against hers, he softly requested, “Don’t apologize. You don’t ever have to apologize for that. I wish I had been your first too. I would’ve showed you…It’s not a bad thing to wish it would’ve been good for you.”

She wasn’t sure how comforting _him_ had turned into comforting _her_ , but she had forgotten how sweet Logan could be, how he had an uncanny ability for insightfulness that rivaled her own. And what he was saying was like a balm to her poor, battered soul.

“Logan…” 

When no other words came, Logan said, “No matter what bullshit we put each other through, you’re still the best friend I have, Veronica. I just want to keep you safe.”

“You don’t have to-“

Pressing a finger against her lips, stilling her words, he asked, “Why won’t you let me?”

“I’m afraid,” she admitted.

Startled, Logan pressed, “Of me?”

Veronica minutely shook her head. “Of _me_.”

“Why?”

“Because what if you can’t? What if I’m too… ruined-“

He silenced her with a kiss, long, sweet, and surprisingly chaste. Logan had always had a way of devouring her mouth, but tonight his kiss was as tentative as could be, his hands not embarking on a quest for her curves, his tongue staying inside his mouth. This was a kiss of comfort, a reassurance wrapped in a promise and Veronica could’ve wept at the sincerity behind it.

Cupping her face in his hands, he ordered against her lips, “Don’t ever say that. You’re perfect just like this.”

After what had happened at his parents’ Christmas party, Veronica had swore to herself that she would never kiss Logan Echolls again, that she would erase that part of her life, that it had been a well-intentioned but badly executed attempt at solace. She had promised herself that she would never again agree to anything sexual with Logan no matter how sweet he was to her just because she was in love with the man he had once been. The Logan she had loved and the Logan who now existed were two different people, and Veronica had needed to learn to make that distinction.

She had made that distinction tonight, and she knew that she had made a promise to herself that she had no intention of keeping.

Her kiss was not tentative; it was hungry and desperate and consumed Logan with its passion. She had never taken charge like this before. Duncan had liked her submissive, his bubble gum princess with the unspoiled purity, and her previous couplings with Logan had always made her feel unsure of herself and her sexuality.

He tasted like whiskey and sorrow; she tasted of chocolate ice cream and tears. As he allowed her to push him onto his back, her tiny body resting atop his bare chest, he stared up at her in fascination. He thought that he had seen every side of Veronica Mars, but this one was new. This wasn’t the girl he had had a crush on, the innocent he had fooled around with on the beach, the angry girl that had planted a bong in his locker, or even the victim that he had seen only moments before. This Veronica was no shrinking violet but she wasn’t the sex kitten that Lilly had been. No, this Veronica was a woman who was taking back something that had been stolen from her, that was claiming what she wanted.

His skin was scalding hot beneath her palms as she trailed them over his torso. She had never gotten the chance to explore him like this before, to take her time, and even though she knew that most of the free press and his father were outside, she didn’t care. 

For the first time since they had begun their illicit interludes, Veronica didn’t feel shamed for desiring him, for wanting to touch and be touched by him. 

She kissed his cheeks, his chin, down his neck, lightly sucked on his collarbone. Logan purred in enjoyment, moving his head in an attempt to direct her to where he wanted her mouth. He was fighting to not roll her over, to resist the powerful urge to thrust his burgeoning erection into the softness hidden between her thighs. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her to panic again, to ruin something that should be beautiful and convince her that it would never be good.

“I don’t understand you,” she confessed against his chest, planting tiny kisses around his nipple before taking it between her teeth, startling him at her forwardness. 

“Ah!” he cried out before panting, “What’s to understand?”

“Sometimes you’re this total bastard that I can’t even stand to be in the same room with. But then there are times when…when I never want to leave you.” Pressing a trail of kisses down the meridian of his body, she stated, “I never know how I’m gonna feel about you, if I’m gonna kiss you or kill you.”

Trembling at the feel of her breath misting across his lower abdomen, he shakily replied, “Feeling’s mutual.”

Playfully, as if to alleviate the cloud of pain that hung over both of them, she darted her tongue into his bellybutton, prompting him to jerk up, his erection now standing tall and poking her between her breasts. He urged her up, forcing her away from the part of his body that wanted so desperately to be buried within hers, and kissed her with every ounce of passion he felt for her. Confused, Veronica pulled away, doubt flooding her eyes, and she asked, “What’s wrong?”

His hands played gently with the hem of her T-shirt, not pushing but asking. Veronica silently raised her arms, and he removed it with ease. He didn’t go to her bra as she had expected, but instead began to kiss ever inch of her skin, startling with her neck and working his way down to the cup of her bra. When he reached it, his tongue traced the edge of the purple lace, his hands stroking the length of her back. Her nipples were painfully erect, tight and demanding attention, and she was prepared to beg him to touch them, to take off her bra and do whatever he wanted, when he surprised her by taking one into his mouth, rubbing his tongue against it through the lace. The sensation was unfamiliar but incredibly exciting, and she moaned, her hands flying to his head to hold him more firmly against her.

He moved to her left breast, lapping at the peak before lightly worrying it with his teeth, and Veronica squealed, panting out, “Logan, please!”

With a smile that was pure self-satisfaction, his hands moved to the front clasp of her bra, and he slowly unhooked it, acutely aware of Veronica’s eyes watching him. When it sprung open and her breasts seemed to pour forth into his hands, he lightly squeezed them, announcing, “These are world class breasts.”

Veronica wanted to contradict him, to tell him they were too small, not perky enough, not firm the way they were supposed to be, but she couldn’t, not when he was looking at her like she was an angel come to earth, nothing but desire and admiration in his eyes.

She laid back, her head at the foot of the bed, splayed out before him, her hair framing her face in a way that was simultaneously innocent and erotic. Her skin was tinted pink with arousal, her nipples damp from his mouth, her hips minutely bucking up to meet an imaginary lover’s thrusts, and Logan had never wanted anyone more in that moment.

He moved over her slowly, giving her time to prepare, and when he was, he spent several long minutes just kissing her, acquainting her with their position. When he felt her short nails skim down his back, he knew she was ready and slowly he began to slide down her body much in the same way she had done. He stopped at her breasts, making sure not to leave one inch un-kissed or touched before pressing wet, open mouthed kisses to her stomach. She made a noise that was somewhere between a mewl and a cry, and she sighed, “God, Logan, I need-“

“What do you need? I’ll give you anything.”

He felt her blush, the heat causing her skin to warm even further. As his fingers casually slid along the inside of her waistband, not venturing downward, just playing with the sensitive skin there, Veronica panted, “You know!”

Logan knew that he probably shouldn’t play with her like this, not when she had revealed something so personal before, but there was something endearing in her purity. He would never leave her unfulfilled, but he was still a 17-year-old boy, and he wanted to hear her say the words.

As if to give her the inspiration to verbalize her needs, he popped open the button of her jeans but did not lower the zipper. “What do I know?”

Tears of frustration burning in her eyes, the tension between her legs becoming unbearable, she blushingly informed him, “I need…I need…I need to come, Logan.”

If his control were worse, he would’ve come right then and there, her words enough to tip him over the edge. But there was no way he was going to become the premature ejaculation sensation before he even got her pants off. If he had to embarrass himself, he wanted one of them to, at least, be naked.

She lifted her hips to assists him in freeing her of her jeans, leaving her clad only in a pair of string bikini panties with stars decorating them. He sat back on his heels to really look at her, to bask in her beauty, and he stilled her hands when she moved to cover herself.

Gently moving her arms away from her body, he assured her, “You’re beautiful, Veronica. You don’t need to hide.”

“You’re just staring,” she said, a touch of defensiveness creeping into her tone.

“I won’t stare anymore,” he vowed, moving back to her stomach, drawing designs with the tip of his tongue. “I’ll be too busy.”

It was the subtext rather than the words that made Veronica quiver, and she pushed everything out of her mind but him. There was no rape, no Lynn, no year of bad blood. Right now, all there was, was Logan, who was currently moving aside the strings of her underwear to nip at her hipbones.

“Logan, please!”

Taking pity on her, Logan carefully slid the underwear down her legs, tossing them over his shoulder. He idly wonders if she remembers leaving that pair from Christmas; he’ll never tell her that he kept them.

Veronica gasped as he began to kiss his way up her right leg, the kisses becoming deeper and wetter at the inside of her thigh. She’s torn between embarrassment and arousal; no one has ever done this to her before. Duncan had heavily hinted at wanting to receive oral sex but never mentioned giving it; she and Troy had only gone as far as some over the bra action; she and Logan had gone from touching to attempting sex that she hadn’t even thought about it.

Now, as Logan urged her to bend her legs, seemingly framing his body, Veronica wasn’t sure whether to let him do this or to run away and check into a convent. Grandma Mars had always wanted her to be a nun, to serve the Catholic Church. Maybe she had missed her calling; maybe she wasn’t supposed to be a PI at all but was supposed to serve-

“Jesus Christ!” she screeched at the first touch of Logan’s tongue against her core, sensation whipping through her so fast and hard that she felt as if she had been sucker punched.

Logan immediately lifted his head in shock. Veronica had never been incredibly vocal, and Lilly rarely made noise during sex unless it was to mock him. To hear her shout like that immediately made him think that he’d hurt her.

“Are you okay?”

“Don’t stop!” she cried, an undertone of panic threading through her voice. 

“You sure?”

She nodded jerkily, pitching her hips up in encouragement. “I’m sure. I won’t yell again. I promise.”

Resituating himself, he smiled. “Be as loud as you want.”

She moaned long in satisfaction as his tongue went back to lapping at her flesh, his hand gently stroking her folds before slipping one finger inside of her. Her inner muscles clenched upon it, massaging it, and Logan could only imagine what it would feel like to be inside her, to feel that tightness grasping around his dick. 

“You’re so wet, baby,” he informed her, a bit of awe filling his voice. “I think you like this.”

“Uh-huh,” she grunted, moaning louder as he slid another finger inside her, stretching her sheath a little more. She was unbearably tight; he had forgotten that. It had been so long since he had touched her like this, that he had felt the way her muscles hungrily clamped down upon him.

When he withdrew his fingers, Veronica began to protest but her voice faltered as she felt his tongue slip inside her, lapping at the wetness that was accumulating there. It was something startlingly new, something that felt so good that she didn’t even have time to think about whether it was right or wrong, whether they should be doing this or not.

Logan had imagined doing this to Veronica a few times before, but the actual experience was far more gratifying than his imagination. As he tasted her in the most intimate way that he could, as he felt her fingers twist in his hair, he wanted her to come apart, to feel better than she ever had in her life.

Replacing his fingers, he worked his way up to her previously ignored clit, darting his tongue out to gauge her reaction. He knew that some women were more sensitive than others here, and he did not want this to be painful. She mewled, begging him to continue, and, as his fingers curled inside her, searching for that illusive place inside her, he sipped her swollen clit between his lips and began to suck, his tongue sliding against it.

Veronica screamed in bliss, jerking her hips almost violently, hands keeping Logan firmly against her. She had never felt anything like this before; this made every orgasm she had ever had before feel like pleasant twinges. Logan couldn’t be human; nothing human could invoke this much pleasure in another person.

She had barely recovered her from her first orgasm when his questing fingers found what they were looking for. The moment he touched her g-spot, she cried out again, coming even harder than before, wetness gushing out of her as she sobbed in pleasure. Logan withdrew his hand, and he slid back up her body, cradling her against him as she shivered intermittently with aftershocks. When her breathing finally regulated, she just looked at Logan in disbelief before blurting out, “Thank you.”

Logan grinned, wiping his mouth with the edge of his sheet before brushing his lips against hers. “Thank _you_.”

With a sleepy smile, she reached down, trying to grasp his straining erection, but he caught her hand, pressed a kiss to her palm. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, self-consciousness filling her face.

“I don’t want anything.”

“But it’s ok. I want to.” Brushing a piece of his hair back from his forehead, she said, “I want to make love to you.”

Logan shook his head. “Not tonight. Tonight, I just want to hold you.”

“But you didn’t come,” she said before blushing brightly.

“This wasn’t about me.” His eyes pleaded with her to understand, to see that this had been his way of apologizing for Shelley’s party, to try to make up for the pain that he could’ve spared her if he had been the type of man she deserved. 

Veronica reached for her discarded T-shirt, pulling it over her body before obediently slipping into his arms. He positioned them carefully, so that he was spooning her, and he kissed her hair.

They laid there for several minutes before Logan offered up his confession, the secret he owed her. “He beat her, too, you know. That’s one of my first memories. They had gone to a party, the People’s Choice Awards, and Mom had talked to some director. Aaron thought she was flirting, and the moment they got inside, he backhanded her so hard that she fell over a coffee table. Trina and I were watching some movie, I can’t even remember what, but he didn’t even care. He pulled her up by her hair, called her a whore, and broke her nose.”

“God,” Veronica gasped.

“She started the plastic surgery after that. There was the nose job to fix what he did, the cheek implants after he crushed a cheekbone, the Botox and the lipo and the boob jobs. Collagen was the latest. He has a thing for Angelina Jolie, and Mom thought that if she had bigger lips he’d quit fucking anything in a skirt. When she’d get drunk, she’d tell me that if she could just be what he needed, if she did what she was supposed to do, he wouldn’t be like this. It was always her fault, never his. I used to hate her when she wouldn’t stop him from hitting me, from _beating_ me, but he just would’ve done it anyway and then did her.” 

Veronica can hear the trembling in his voice, the tears that have managed to escape as he accuses, “It’s his fault. She might’ve jumped but he’s the one who drove her to it. And I can’t believe…I can’t believe she’d leave me like that. How could she just fucking quit when she knew that he’d keep doing it to me, that he’d probably kill me without her here? How could she be so selfish?”

“Maybe she was just in too much pain,” Veronica lamely offered, stroking the arm that was wrapped around her torso. “Maybe this was the only way she could be free of him.”

“Free of him,” he echoed, the words nagging at his brain as if they meant something significant. “Who wouldn’t want to be free of him?”

“I know that I’m not her, but…I’m here. I won’t let him hurt you anymore.”

He knows the promise is empty, that there’s no way she can promise that, but he appreciates the sentiment. As he buries his face in her hair, they fall asleep, their breath synchronizing as they drift off.

* * *

Light filtered through the windows accompanied by birds singing, and Veronica awoke in a panic. Her father was due back in Neptune at 8 AM, and it’s 7:30. If she didn’t do some serious hauling ass, she was going to be in trouble like she could not comprehend.

Gently moving out of Logan’s grasp, she began to dress in her forgotten clothes, keeping one eye on the clock. Her pants are barely fastened before she hears Logan drowsily query, “Where are you going?”

“Home. My dad’s gonna shit a brick if I’m not there.”

Logan moved out of bed, handing her the bag she had left beside his bed. Carefully, unsure how she’ll react, he kisses her briefly. “I’ll walk you out.”

“You don’t have to-“

“I’m walking you out,” he rephrased, leading her silently through the house.

Her car is where she left it, the news vans blissfully gone after scoring the Aaron interview, likely to surface again at Lynn’s funeral. As Veronica unlocked her car, Logan sighed, “Thank you for last night.”

She looks so young in the morning light, face free of make-up, hair delightfully tousled. “What are friends for?”

The door was open, and she was prepared to climb in when Logan requested, “Please stop running from me.”

Sadness in her voice, she countered, “Please stop making me.”

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he swore, “Things are going to be different now.”

She wanted to believe him, to listen to his promises. There’s a part of her that prays with everything she has that he will be different and that when they see each other the next time that things won’t be awkward and filled with tension. But Veronica has learned not to expect miracles, so she just kisses him again before going home, beating her father by mere minutes.

* * *

Lynn’s funeral at the Methodist church is packed, and Veronica sits in the back, away from the Hollywood types and 09ers that make up 99.9% of the mourners. Logan and Aaron are in the front pew, the Kanes behind them, and Logan seems more lost than ever.

He and Aaron stand in the receiving line, the only family that Lynn has left, and, when Logan sees her standing there in the same black dress she wore to Lilly’s funeral, something shifts in his eyes. Despite her hatred of him, she offers Aaron her condolences and shakes his hand.

Logan clasped her hand for a moment too long, his grip slightly too tight, as if he were clinging to a life preserver, and he pulls her in, hugging her as he’s done to several other attendees. 

“I’m glad you came,” he breathed into her ear. “I needed you today.”

Surprise is not a strong enough word to describe what fills her chest in that moment, but Veronica knows that he was right: everything has changed now. And she knows exactly what has happened, knows it the minute she sees the looks she gets from Logan’s 09er pals, once her friends.

Their relationship, once the best kept secret in Neptune, is starting to not be a secret at all.


	4. Chapter 4

“Wang Chung or I’ll kick your ass!”

There had been a time, however brief, when Veronica had actually thought that tonight could just be about normalcy, about going to a dance decked out as pre-Erotica Madonna and enjoying the company of the Neptune Deputy that she had used and screwed over but actually did like underneath it all. She had thought that the worst event of the night was seeing that Meg’s secret admirer was Duncan, whom, Veronica couldn’t deny, she still saved a piece of her heart for, that portion that was always reserved for a first love. 

Of course she had been wrong. After all, she’s Veronica-fucking-Mars, and whenever she thinks that nothing worse can happen... it always does.

It doesn’t surprise her that Logan is not wearing pants, having chosen to emulate Tom Cruise à lá “Risky Business.” It doesn’t even surprise her that he’s loaded, not after finding Trina in the hotel using Lynn’s credit cards. No, what surprises her is that, while she certainly feels pity for his situation and anger at the fact he’s being such a supreme jackass rather than actually dealing with his feelings, she feels so protective of him. 

Of all the things that she has felt for Logan Echolls in the past year, protective was never one of them. Logan made it perfectly clear that he didn’t need anyone to protect him, least of all her, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to shield him from this pain. Wallace had been right when he had pegged her as a marshmallow, and right now, she was harboring a particular soft spot for Logan, especially after the tenderness he had shown her the night of his mother’s suicide. She knew that there was a person underneath those retro sunglasses and white shirt that needed comfort in a way she wasn’t even sure she could provide, and that both bothered her and assuaged her guilt at the way she had handled him in the hotel yesterday.

His breakdown had been gut-wrenching to watch. In all of the time Veronica knew him, his tears had always been short and usually quiet. To hear great, heaving sobs come from his chest, to feel his fingers curl into her back in a desperate attempt to hold her close…She had been overwhelmed and had basically rushed him to his home, telling him that he needed some time alone. He had stared at her with those dark eyes, silently pleading for her to stay, and she had bailed like a coward. She couldn't handle another night of revealing her secrets to Logan, only to have to turn around and pretend it hadn't happened. She was still recovering from the last one. 

And because she wouldn't stay with him while he fell apart in private, behind closed doors where they could rock one another to comfort, she had to watch it happen publicly, at a time when everyone was watching.

Veronica pulled out of Leo’s arms, an apologetic look on her face, before she approached Logan, who was trying to grind with Carrie Bishop and was only really succeeding in dry humping her leg like a dog. When he saw her, he conspicuously pulled away from Carrie, a penitent look on his face, before slurring, “She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Veronica had heard the line before; it was one of Lilly’s, always brought out when she had cheated on him and needed to convince Logan that only _he_ was her true love.

“You’re drunk.”

“Apparently so.” Flinging two heavy arms around her neck, pressing his forehead against hers so that he could be eye to eye with her, he teasingly drawled, “But you still love me anyway, right?”

The stench of whiskey hit her hard in the face, filling her pores and offering her a vicarious taste of the beverage she hated, and suddenly she’s hit with a memory of her mother, stumbling down the stairs at the old house, missing the last two and crashing at the bottom. Veronica, barely fifteen, had bent down to help her and her mother had begun her apologies, reeking of alcohol so badly that it had made Veronica’s eyes water. 

With strength fueled by anger, she pushed him away, breaking his hold, causing him to nearly lose his balance as she spat, “What are you doing, Logan?”

Before he could answer, hurt shining in his eyes, Duncan and Meg came towards them, Leo trailing slowly behind, unsure if he wanted to step into the hornet’s nest that was developing on the floor of the Neptune High Gym. Veronica couldn’t blame him; if she had a choice, she wouldn’t be doing this either…except, she did have a choice. And, as usual, her choice seemed to involve Logan, whether or not it was a detriment to other things around her.

“Hey, man,” Duncan started, one hand lifting to scratch at his Eddie Munster wig, “you okay?”

“When did you get here, Lil?” he mumbled, a clumsy hand reaching to touch Meg’s hair as if to affirm that she was really standing before him.

Veronica’s spine straightened, every muscle in her body now tense. He thought Meg was Lilly? After everything he had said, everything they had done together in the past few weeks, he still wanted Lilly? Was it that obviously that Veronica was just another replacement for a dead girl? Was blonde hair and a tight body all it took for him to imagine that it was Lilly Kane beside him? 

Meg, completely oblivious to Veronica’s change in body language, was the perfect image of sympathy as she moved his hand away, saying, “It’s Meg, Logan, Meg Manning.”

“Been so long since I saw you, Lil,” he continued, oblivious, before turning suddenly to Veronica. “Guess we’d better tell her then, huh?”

Any feelings of jealousy immediately flew out the window as panic exploded in her stomach. Now was _definitely_ not the time to out their relationship…friendship with benefits…frequent loathing paired with naughty touching…whatever the hell they were. And she definitely didn’t want to have to deal with the fall-out with her ex-boyfriend and potential boyfriend standing side by side.

Grasping Logan’s shoulders, she ordered, “We’re going out into the hall until we can get you a ride home.”

“But I’m here to party!” he retorted, raising his voice enough that it looked like Mrs. Hauser was about to actually venture from her spot holding the wall up and do some actual chaperoning duties, which would undoubtedly lead to a call to the Sheriff, if not Aaron Echolls.

Leo, seeing the teacher make the same movement, firmly took hold of Logan’s forearm and intoned, “Logan, you could be picked up for public drunkenness. Come on out into the hall so you don’t get into trouble.”

Veronica was so grateful to Leo at that moment that she would have written an entire musical about his good qualities. And—she couldn’t lie—it was also kinda hot seeing him take charge like that. That was the one flaw in Leo D’Amato; he was almost as passive as Duncan.

As Leo escorted her stumbling friend into the hall, Veronica sighed, digging into her purse for her cell phone. She didn’t _want_ to talk to Trina, but if it came down to Trina or Aaron, Veronica would have to settle for the lesser of two evils.

* * *

The body of the Le Baron was cool against the skin of her back as Veronica leaned against it, Leo standing before her, bidding her goodnight. Most of the students were gone now, a few left vomiting in the bushes from Dick spiking the punch, but it was almost quiet in the Neptune High lot.

“You ever just have normal nights?” Leo quipped, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Normal?” she echoed, lifting her hand to stroke her imaginary beard as she pondered the question. “I have heard of that before.”

“Yeah, you know, where you don’t get arrested for making fake IDs or investigate cheaters or con your friends into distracting deputies so you can steal from the property room.”

“How do you know about the IDs?...Which I was _totally_ framed for, by the way.”

His smile became flirtatiously enigmatic. “People talk.”

“People _lie_.”

“Which part was the lie?”

“Well…none of that was, but a lot of what you hear about me won’t be true.”

“Such as?”

“I was never a dancer at the Seventh Veil; they wouldn’t give me my own dressing room, so I refused. I never serviced the water polo team, though there were many offers. And I’ve never slashed Lamb’s tires, but should the opportunity present itself…”

Leo laughed, and Veronica noticed that it was not burdened with the sadness that hers had, that Logan’s had, that Duncan’s had. Leo had been untouched by the murder of Lilly Kane and the shit storm that followed; he got to stay normal, to be normal.

“All I need to know about you, I already do,” he assured her.

“Like what?”

“You’re completely loyal to your dad, which means you’re big on family. You eat more pizza than someone your size should ever be able to consume, so you have to be Italian, which means that my mother would worship and adore you. ...And, you have a soft spot for Logan Echolls, and that tells me that you’re a good person.”

“I don’t have a soft spot for Logan,” she began to argue.

“Yeah, I’m sure you would’ve done the same for anyone, right?” He shrugged. “It’s okay to want to help him. I mean, he was your best friend’s boyfriend, right? She’d want you to watch over him, wouldn’t she?”

 _You obviously did not know Lilly_ , was all Veronica could think. Instead, she just nodded before declaring, “I should head home. Backup’s gotta be dying to go outside right now, and Dad’s after a jumper in Colorado, so...”

“So you gotta go. Can I see you again?”

There he was, the pinnacle of normal, the average Joe, the type of young man that her father must’ve been. He was a stand-up guy, not prone to alcoholic binges that resulted in public embarrassment and biting comments, not the kind to just walk away with no explanation, the sort that ran drugs and then skipped town. Leo D’Amato was the type of guy that she should’ve wanted, the type that wouldn’t hurt her.

So she simply said, “Sure,” and tried not to be too obvious when she jerked as he kissed her, a nagging voice in her head accused her of betraying the drunk man she had handed off to his sister earlier in the night.

* * *

Veronica was half way home when she realized that she still had Logan’s car keys in her purse. His mansion on the hill was on the opposite side of town, a good 20 minutes from her shoebox apartment, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to deal with either Echolls child again, but she also knew that if she didn’t take him his keys, he would call her when he woke up the following morning, undoubtedly waking her up too.

For all of his drunken antics, Logan was strange in the fact that he always got up an ungodly hour after one of his binges, almost as if his drunkenness prevented him from rest. She could remember Lilly’s Sweet 16 and how he had been the most inebriated she had ever seen him, but he had woken them up at 6 AM the next day, ready to go and insisting that Veronica make him pancakes.

Weighing her options, she groaned in disgust before performing an illegal U-turn and making the drive to the Echolls' Mansion. The last time she had been here was the night of Lynn Echolls’s suicide, the night that Logan had learned of her rape, the night that everything had changed for them. She wouldn’t call them _friends_ , exactly, which was odd considering that only a few weeks ago he had been performing oral sex on her. It was just subtle changes, like asking her to investigate the possibility of Lynn being alive, like breaking down in front of her, like kissing her cheek at Lynn’s funeral.

For so long now, things had been black and white between them, and Veronica was definitely not digging this new Technicolor. 

As she pulled into the driveway, she noticed Trina talking on the phone through the window, decked out in the gaudiest gold bathrobe she had ever seen, a glass of champagne in one hand, handset in the other. Veronica was mentally preparing herself for dealing with Trina when she noticed a light coming from the pool house. Knowing that was where Logan had to be, she slipped around the bushes, her black skirt catching on a rosebush. As she swore at the bush and her outfit, she saw that Logan was dipping a hand into the warm water of the pool, wearing nothing but the white briefs and socks from the dance, still swaying uneasily on his feet. It was simultaneously hysterical and infuriating to see him like this. 

“You can’t go swimming drunk,” she stated, arms crossed over her chest in her usual protective stance.

Logan turned his head slowly, almost as if he was trying to assess whether she was a hallucination or not, before finally declaring, his speech a bit clearer, “Whatever, Veronica. I'm not your yo-yo.”

“ _What_?”

“What do you care if I go swimming while I’m wasted?” He continued bitterly. “You couldn’t get rid of me fast enough earlier.”

Ignoring his sniping tone, she held up his keys before tossing them onto one of the lounges. “Here are your keys. Try not to kill yourself again.”

“Would you even care?”

“Would I even care if _what_?” Veronica sighed, tired of talking around in circles of accusation and denial with him.

“If I died,” Logan answered quietly.

“Don’t even joke about that!” Veronica snapped, a tendril of fear tugging at her heart. 

“Nah, you probably wouldn’t,” he decided in that same defeated tone, acting as if she hadn’t spoken at all. “After all, you’ve got Officer Good Body to take care of you now.”

“Hey, if it wasn’t for Officer Good Body...” Catching herself, she amended, “ _Leo_ , you’d be in a cell right now waiting for Aaron to bail your ass out!”

“Well then I guess I’d better thank my lucky stars that Veronica’s boyfriend covered my ass. However would I get on without you?”

“Not that I _owe_ you any explanations…but Leo is not my boyfriend.”

“You think you don’t owe me an explanation?”

“I don’t!”

“Yeah, you made that clear when you practically shoved me out of the gym so I wouldn’t tell Duncan about us.”

“I shoved you out because you were a blathering moron who was calling Meg 'Lilly' and making everyone uncomfortable!”

“Bullshit! You thought I’d tell Duncan what we do, who you are, and you couldn’t handle it! Face it: you like me being your dirty little secret, the one you keep around when you have an itch that needs scratching but otherwise want to stay the fuck away from you!”

“You’re drunk and have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, no, I know _exactly_ what I’m talking about! You never did shit with Duncan; you want him to still think you’re pure as the driven snow, and he wants to think that you’d never _lower_ yourself to be with someone like me! I’m okay when no one’s looking, when you can pretend that it’s not real!”

“Says the guy who won’t even talk to me when his friends around! No, can’t be seen with Veronica, the Benedict Arnold of the 09ers. I might not get invited to the cool parties where they use drugged girls as salt licks!”

Logan seemed to be sobering up with every poison-tipped barb, and he was shaking with anger at her last statement. It was not his proudest moment, but for her to use that against him now…

“Gee, why wouldn’t someone want to just bring you around, as sweet as you are?” Invading her personal space, he drawled, “Face it, _V_ : you’d prefer if I dropped off the face of the earth and made your fake little life better because God forbid Duncan or your dad or Wallace finds out that you come to _me_ for what you need.”

It was horrible, and what made it horrible was that it was true. How many times had she prayed that Logan would just go away? She _didn’t_ want Keith or Wallace to know that she kept going back to the guy who had smashed her headlights, told Troy her name was Trampy McBitch, and laughed as Dick scribbled her phone number on every stall at Neptune High with the words **Call if you like anal** beneath it. 

She didn’t want them to know that when she went to sleep, she wished Logan had his arms around her. 

“Go to hell,” Veronica growled, spinning on her uncomfortable heels and marching off of the property, tears stinging her eyes.

* * *

Veronica was not sure which was worse to wake up to: Backup barking at maximum volume or someone banging so hard on the front door that it sounded like they were trying to break in. When she rolled over and spotted her alarm clock, which told her that it was 5 minutes until 5 AM, she was ready to kill whoever was on the other side of the door.

Staring at her through eyes that were more than a little bloodshot was Logan, his fist poised to begin another round of door banging.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed, keeping her voice down so that her neighbors didn’t call Lamb. “It is 5 in the morning!”

“We need to talk.”

“I think we talked enough. I have nothing left to say to you.” She swung the door, prepared to slam it in his face when his hand easily caught it, his reflexes surprising for the amount of alcohol he had consumed not twelve hours earlier. 

“Logan-“

“Please, Veronica.”

“No! I’m done with this, Logan. I make an effort to be nice to you and you’re cruel. I try to help you and you’re cruel. And then you think you can just swoop in and say something sweet and that makes it okay? I don’t need this. I don’t need _you_.”

Voice sounding shockingly unlike Logan, he softly countered, “But I need you.”

It wasn’t what Veronica had expected to hear and it threw her. That second of hesitation gave Logan just the in that he needed to move through the door, giving Backup a light head scratch before invading Veronica’s personal space, gently cupping her face between his hands. Keeping a light pressure to insure that she would continue to meet his gaze, he sighed, “I know that I’m an asshole, okay? I get it. But I’ve always been an asshole, and you know that no matter what horrible shit I say, I care about you.”

“Please tell me that your selling point isn’t that you’ve always been an asshole.”

“I know I’m not…I know I fuck up…a lot. But I _do_ care about you, Veronica. I mean, I can’t think of anyone else in this world that I…that I need like you.”

“You don’t need me, Logan,” she argued, breaking his hold on her, needing to put some distance between them. “You did just fine without me for over a year. In fact, you made it clear you didn’t give a shit about me one way or another.” 

“You know that wasn't me.”

“No, what I know is that you have twenty different personalities and all of them end up hurting you and everyone around you! I can’t do this, Logan! I can’t take it! I can’t keep…I can’t keep trusting you and thinking that you’re going to change this time only to have you be the same drunk son of a bitch that you’ve been since Lilly died!”

“This has nothing to do with Lilly,” he argued mildly.

“Yeah, she’s so far from your mind that you were pawing Meg, calling her 'Lilly',” Veronica bit back, hating the pathetic jealousy that was sneaking, unbidden, into her tone. 

A bit of realization dawning on him, he moved a fraction of an inch closer to her. “I didn’t want Meg to be her.”

Veronica just snorted in derision.

Rephrasing, he stressed, “I don’t want _you_ to be her. Meg was just standing there, with Duncan, and it was like it was the four of us again, only you were with _me_ , the way it should have been. I wanted Lilly to see what should have been.” 

Turning her back, unsure whether or not her battered emotions would be able to withstand any more of this talk without tears appearing, Veronica sighed, “You loved her since we were thirteen, and now you’re telling me that you don’t still want her? I’m not stupid.”

“And neither am I.” Taking a deep breath, Logan confessed the biggest secret he had, the secret that he had never even dared to speak out loud for fear that he would be forever scorned.

“I don’t miss Lilly.”

Veronica whipped around so quickly that she nearly tumbled backwards into the coffee table. “Excuse me?”

Folding his arms across his chest in a patented Veronica move, he admitted, “I don’t really miss her. I mean, there are days when I wonder where she is just because she was there for so long, and sometimes, when I’m editing my memories, I wish that she was here because she was fun once. But towards the end…before she died…I don’t miss that; I don’t miss _her_. Sometimes I think I just loved her, that I missed her because it was…”

“Habit,” Veronica finished in a whisper, thinking of her own feelings towards Duncan.

“Habit,” he confirmed. Cautiously taking her hand in his, a tenuous connection that seemed to imbue him with courage, he continued, “But you? I missed you every second. I used to wake up and think that I had something funny to tell you and then I’d remember…I know that what I did was wrong. I was just really fucked up.”

“ _Was_?”

Rolling his eyes, he admitted, “Still am.” Closing the gap between them, he added, “I want to start over with you, Veronica. Let me show you that…that I’m more than that.”

“Logan, you can’t just sweep in here and expect everything to change.”

“I don’t. I just want a chance, that’s all. I don’t care if the whole world knows or you want to keep it a secret. I’d rather be with you when no one can see than not be with you at all.”

Veronica wasn’t sure whether to be grateful that he was actually being so flexible or ashamed that she wanted him to agree to keep it a secret. Somehow the tables had turned, and now it was _she_ that didn’t want the world to know she associated with Logan Echolls on something other than a strictly professional basis. But what she did know was that she felt the same as Logan did at least on one thing: she wanted him back in her life.

So she didn't stop him when he pressed his forehead to hers, or when he leaned in a second later and kissed her open mouth, and she didn't stop him when he eased back onto her couch and brought her down to straddle his lap. When she felt the bulge in his jeans nestled into the apex of her thighs, she had no doubt where this was headed.

Logan was kissing her like he would never get enough of the slick, heated motion of their mouths meeting. He had one arm wrapped around her back, anchoring her to him, and the other was trailing up her bare leg to the hem of her shorts.

“You are so soft,” Logan murmured as he deftly flipped her onto her back on the couch, immediately covering her with his body. “And you smell so good, God,” he buried his face in the crook of her neck, sucking the tender skin with all the subtlety of a vampire. He was arching his hips, rubbing his clothed erection between her legs very pointedly.

“Logan,” she gasped, fisting a clump of his hair. 

“No, Veronica, shhh,” he soothed, kissing her cheeks, her nose. He drew back to stare at her with an adoration that equally scared and exhilarated her. “We don't have to do anything.” He went back to kissing a path down her neck towards her breasts. “I just want you to know that I can't stop thinking about you, ever. I can’t get you out of my head no matter how hard I try.” Taking her hand in his, he pressed it against his chest, his heart beating wildly beneath his breastbone. “You’re my heart.”

It was cheesy and sappy and exactly like a bad line out of one of those insipid romantic comedies, but Veronica couldn’t help the hitch in her breathing as the words hit home. All she could do was tug impatiently at his shirt with the hand pressed to him, urging him down to her mouth before she whispered against his lips, “Make love to me.”

There was something fabulously dangerous about the idea of letting Logan take her on the couch, something that was wild and hopelessly teenaged about it. But even through the haze of sexual tension that was engulfing her, she knew she respected her father far too much to ever rut on the couch that he sat on as he watched _America’s Most Wanted_ and cheered when they caught the bad guy. 

As Logan’s hands began to wander beneath the tank top she had worn to bed, she managed to rasp out, “Logan…not here…my room.”

As if she weighed nothing, Logan scooped her up, her legs automatically encircling his waist, her heat pressing almost painfully against his erection. She wrapped her arms around his neck, the tip of her tongue tracing the shell of his ear, patient in his arms before he awkwardly asked, “Um, V…which one’s yours?”

The question almost surprised her until she realized that Logan had never been inside the apartment before. No, the last time he had been in her room had been at the house on Bay Ridge, the one with the white bed with ruffled pink canopy, the one with the stuffed animals happily arranged on her wicker bookcase, the one where Veronica had sobbed after she had lost everything.

She felt an irrational stab of embarrassment at the messy condition of her bedroom. It didn’t matter that Logan’s room was in danger of being condemned; there was just something about the boy- _man_ -she was about to have sex with seeing her dirty clothes scattered on the floor from where she was sorting laundry that just screamed unsexy.

Logan wouldn’t have noticed if the floor was covered in toxic waste; he was so caught up in Veronica in that moment that the world could’ve ended and he wouldn’t have even flinched. As he laid her back on her firm mattress, Veronica saw the adoration in his eyes and it simultaneously warmed her and terrified her. She didn’t want to be the center of someone’s world and yet…yet she also felt like they had always been like this. Even when they hated each other, they couldn’t look away, turn away, separate themselves. 

As she raised herself enough on her elbows to begin removing her shirt, she was almost grateful for the unfortunate granola bar/scissors incident that had killed her beloved water bed. Somehow, the idea of having her first (invited) time on a water bed was a little too 70’s porno for her.

He caught her hands loosely, an almost pleading look on his face as he requested, “Let me do it?”

Logan had seen her naked several times, but there was something about the expression on his face that made it seem as if every time was the first time. It made her feel beautiful and sexy and just so damn _feminine_ that she wished that she could bottle that feeling for when her self-esteem started to flag. 

But right now she couldn’t think about that because she was topless and quickly becoming bottomless with Logan Echolls touching her as if she were crafted of the most fragile crystal.

As Logan shed his own clothing, his boxers humorously tented over his straining erection before he finally tossed them away, Veronica felt that familiar anxiety begin to bloom in her stomach. She _did_ want this; she knew that with everything she had. And she knew that if she couldn’t do this with Logan-who, despite everything else, she knew would never hurt her when they were like this-then who _could_ she do it with? 

Logan, as if sensing her sudden unease, gently laid the condom he had fished out of his wallet onto her night stand and cupped her cheek. Careful to keep his weight off of her, he whispered, “We don’t have to do this, Veronica. I can wait. I’ll wait for as long as you need.”

“I want to,” she assured him, stretching to reach the condom, her nipples brushing against the wall of his chest in such a way that she had to stifle a moan. As she tore the package open, she noticed that Logan, who had apparently gotten bored during the whole 10 seconds it had taken her to reach for the rubber, had decided that it was time to try to see if he could drive her positively crazy by worshiping her breasts.

She gasped, her teeth sinking into her lip briefly as Logan sucked heavily upon one swollen nipple before laving it with his tongue. As her eyes drifted shut, pleasantly losing herself in his ministrations, Logan cautiously eased one finger inside of her body, her muscles automatically tightening around the questing digit. This time, it was Logan who had to bite back a moan, because, if she felt this fucking good around his _finger_ , then actually being inside of her was going to be absolutely exquisite.

“I just need to loosen you up, babe,” he panted in a whisper, almost as if he was afraid a regular tone would frighten her. “I don't want to hurt you.”

Veronica hastily nodded, ready to agree to anything if he would keep going, and she took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself down enough that she wasn’t going to turn into a babbling mass. She was doing a very good job until she felt Logan’s lips brush across her lower abdomen and then every feeling she had was obliterated by the sensations happening below her waist.

“Logan!” she cried out, her fingers clutching at his shoulders just as his tongue had made one lazy swipe against her clit.

“Something wrong, love?”

“I need you now. Please, I can’t wait.”

Under normal circumstances, Logan would’ve been amused by Veronica’s impatience, but tonight was not the time to tease her about her temperament. He considered ignoring her pleas and licking at her until she screamed his name, but knowing she had already been rendered powerless in bed once before, he couldn't let her first real time be anything less than exactly what she wanted. 

Extracting the somewhat smushed condom from Veronica’s hand, Logan slid it on with the precision of someone with considerable practice. As he positioned himself between her splayed thighs, he braced himself on his hands, gently lowering himself to brush his lips against hers. 

“If you get uncomfortable…if you want to stop, just say so.”

Her arms made their way around his back, her hands resting on his shoulder blades. Her fingers lightly stroking the skin there, she murmured, “I won't want to stop. It feels so good...Logan, please.”

In movies, when the two characters finally succumbed to their feelings and made love, it was always perfect, beautiful, and there was never any type of hesitation and no one ever faltered.

But this was real life, and it was nowhere near that easy for the lovers entangled on this bed.

For all of his big talk, Logan was terrified of hurting her, and he moved achingly slowly. She was painfully tight, and, with every sharp breath and facial twinge, he wanted to reverse course. If it hadn’t been for Veronica clinging to him so desperately, he would’ve pulled away completely, horrified at the mere idea of causing her more pain. Of course, it was probably better that he was going so slow because he had been right; she felt incredible inside and he could quite easily make a fool of himself with this beautiful girl.

When he was finally seated inside of her, as close to her as any person could be, Veronica released a shaky breath that, when coupled with the wetness he felt on his neck, Logan realized was a sob. He jerked his head off of its resting place on her shoulder, staring into her tear filled blue eyes, and he immediately tried to pull out, away, hating himself already for this.

Veronica’s grip became vice-like as she panted, “Don’t! Don’t go!”

“I’m sorry...”

“No, it’s…it’s good, Logan, I swear!” Wiping at her eyes, she said, “I don’t know why I’m crying. I really don’t.”

“Do you want to stop?”

She shook her head, her blonde hair falling over her face. “No.”

A cocky smile full of bravado graced his lips as he brushed away a piece of hair from her eyes, inclining their foreheads to meet. “Then smile, beautiful. It’s just us now.”

Their hips slowly began to move together, trying to find the right rhythm as their mouths sought each other out. Despite Logan’s experience, neither could deny that it was not as natural as they had built it up to be, but Veronica didn’t care. In the past two years, she had never felt as safe or as complete as right now, skin to skin with Logan so deep inside of her that she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. 

“Can we try something?” he rasped, never stopping the steady motion of his hips.

“A little early to get kinky, isn’t it?” she quipped, her voice amazingly breathy, even to her own ears.

He grinned, mischief sparkling alongside the lust in his eyes. “Trust me?”

“Yeah.”

His hand skimmed its way down her body, stopping when it reached her knee, gently bent to cradle his body. Slipping his hand beneath her leg, he smoothly lifted it, her leg now high against his chest, deepening the angle of penetration, causing to Veronica to cry out in pleasure, her nails biting sharply into his skin.

“Fuck!” she cried as he hit that spot inside of her that never failed to make her tremble. 

Veronica began to buck her hips as fast as she could, needing more friction, needing more of Logan, and he was only too happy to oblige. As they strove towards their peaks together, sweat beading on their skin, Logan leaned down, their tongues tangling intimately.

Logan reached down to touch her clit and Veronica jerked her head back and gasped, meeting his dark, bottomless gaze. 

“Fuck, Veronica...” he gasped as he thrust harder, deeper. “Fuck...love....need...” 

Suddenly Veronica felt the pressure inside of her begin to crest and with a sultry cry, she came, her orgasm exploding. As she cried out to God, Logan, and Jesus, Logan groaned out his own joy into her hair, never feeling so satisfied in his entire life. Careful to keep his weight from crushing her, Logan did not immediately move away, and, when he felt Veronica’s small hands cup his face, he opened his eyes to see that she was grinning in a way he hadn’t seen in years.

“Hey.”

He smiled. “Hey.”

“Spend the night?”

Logan nodded towards the window. “It’s morning now.”

Irritation tore through her. “My dad will be back by noon.”

“Then I have a few hours,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I'll be right back.” Logan withdrew, eliciting matching moans of disappointment. He padded to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, and when he turned back towards the bed, he saw that Veronica had wrapped herself up in her sheets, the blue a striking contrast to her satisfied complexion. He snuggled up behind her, kissing the back of her neck. 

“It's never been like that before,” he confessed in a low murmur. 

“Like what?” Veronica replied, her voice thick and dreamy. 

“That deep,” Logan replied simply, squeezing her tightly once before letting his arms relax into a looser, more comfortable hold. “Things are gonna be different now,” he swore right before he drifted into sleep. 

Veronica sighed, unsure. As wonderful as that had been, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for the whole world to know yet. She could lie and say she wanted Logan all to herself for a little longer... but that's all it would be. A lie. As hollow and unfulfilling as dreams. Instead, she cuddled further into his embrace, content to be sheltered in his arms for as long as possible. 

When she woke up, he was gone, but there was a note on the pillow behind her with two words that made it all okay. “Call me.” 

* * *

She didn’t know why she called Logan to rescue her from suspected bomber Ben. She could’ve called her dad or Wallace or Weevil; Weevil was definitely more threatening than Logan in his 09er khakis and green sweaters complete with puka shells. But she called _him_ because, of everyone, she trusted that he would come, no questions asked, ready to kick some ass and take some names.

She was scared when she didn’t see the Xterra at the Camelot and she was genuinely terrified that she going to end up as the latest decoration on the shabby walls, but when a fist connected with Ben’s face and Veronica saw that it was Logan, her heart rejoiced.

As they stood there on the balcony, staring at each other, Veronica wasn’t sure how to express her gratitude or the love that she had for him in that moment. She always seemed to fuck it up when she tried to explain so she did the only thing she could think of to show him that she cared for him: she kissed him, right then and there, before God and anyone at the Camelot for some afternoon delight. Sure, it wasn’t the Neptune High parking lot or her father’s office, but it was the first time that they had ever kissed without being behind closed doors. 

It was the first time that Veronica was not ashamed of the way she felt for Logan. 

When she pulled back and he did and said nothing, she felt like an asshole of the most amazing degree, especially since they had barely talked since the night they had made love. But when he pulled her back into his embrace, Veronica knew that she had been right to call Logan because he had been and always would be there when she needed him. So she clung to him more fiercely and got lost in his kiss.

* * *

When the lights switched on and Veronica saw every 09er jammed into the Echolls’ mansion, her heart dropped and she prepared for Logan to toss away the hand clutching her own. She expected him to push her away, to play it off as a joke, to make her feel insignificant and keep his status with the 09ers, but he didn’t. And when he tore into Dick for his comments, her quiet heart glowed with something much deeper than she'd ever be able to explain.

It didn’t matter that Duncan looked destroyed to see them standing there together.

It didn’t matter that Aaron Echolls was smiling at her as if she was the next skirt he would be chasing around his office.

It didn’t even matter that Madison Sinclair was there, the girl that had contributed to the hell of her forgotten night at Shelley Pomeroy’s party.

No, all that mattered in that moment was that Logan was hers and she was his and no one could take that away from them.

The secret was out.


End file.
